Being a mainly happy dude, and pretty much a positive human being, it grates with me when I wake up grumpy – no, I don’t mean Richard, as you very well know.
We all have days like that, don’t we? You wake up feeling a bit grumpy and then the first thing on your agenda goes wrong and it sets the day’s tone.
Some time ago Richard convinced me that I needed a new iPod and Bose Bluetooth speaker. I won’t bore you with the details of his argument and although I agreed, in theory, the little voice in my head said that this was a dumb idea and a waste of money.
Over the years I have learnt to listen to that little voice. At first I thought I was merely hearing voices, as you do, as it seemed like a natural conclusion, but then I began to realise that the little voice was sent from my gut and it was purely gut instinct. Anything that wakes that little voice is usually a bad idea.
Back to the Bose speaker and iPod. After having given the speaker a long spell in a drawer because it had peed me off the last time I’d attempted to use it and couldn’t connect it, I decided to have another bash. Obviously it was as flat as a pancake and so I allowed it time to charge – and I gave the iPod a top-up as well. When the thing was charged I did what you need to do to pair the devices. One hour later, I gave up and threw the thing back in the drawer. This was the cause of my bad-day beginning. One hour of my life spent on that crap!
The day did get better.
This morning I set about doing the ‘accounts.’ Sounds grand, but it is simply a matter of reconciling money ‘ins’ and ‘outs.’ Having binned the speaker yesterday, I was using the iPod with earphones. Chea was on the chair at the side of me and she was still sleeping so I didn’t want to wake the dear soul by ‘going large’ with the din – although, she has shown a liking for Pink on full volume! Absently scrolling through the playlist and sucking the end of the Paper Mate, green-gel pen, I was surprised when something warm flowed into my mouth. Removing the pen, I stared horrified at green ink trickling out of it and onto the table. It took me twenty minutes and half a tube of toothpaste to remove the ink from my mouth and tongue – and my chin is still green where the ink had trickled out of my mouth before I could make it to the bathroom. How the hell do they get that much ink in a pen?
So, I’m hoping that like yesterday the day will get better. I’m considering suing Pape Mate. I mean, I didn’t see any warning saying ‘do not suck.’ There were more warnings on the bottle of cough medicine I bought last week – apparently that was going to confuse me and cause disorientation. Fortunately, I wouldn’t notice those side effects, they would blend, and damn easier than this green ink.
Richard now has ‘my’ cold but the brave man has plodded off to work this morning. He had a mini meltdown last Saturday, when, with my snotty cold and deafening cough, he spied me in the garden – digging.
‘You must be feeling better, then!’ he announced over the runner beans. ‘If you are digging the garden.’
‘I wouldn’t say I’m feeling better, Richard,’ I said. ‘But what do you expect me to do? Just sit down and do sod all?’
‘Well, I thought we might go out today to look at properties, and then you got up and appeared too ill, and yet here you are gardening – so you must be feeling better.’ he said sulkily, sounding genuinely disappointed that I wasn’t actually dying and too ill to stand up straight.
I slammed the spade into the ground, which really hurt my throbbing head, and turned to him.
‘Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, Richard. I mean, I’m sorry that I might appear well enough to walk into the garden and dig up a dandelion! I’ll try to have a relapse if it will help…perhaps pneumonia? Would that please you?’
He grumbled something about me being silly and that he didn’t mean that, and then cleared off, to reappear ten minutes later with a mug of tea for me and coffee for his mardy self.
I do see his point, but I literally have to be ‘off my legs’ with something before I give up and in to it.
The irony of this is, another weekend is here, and now dear Richard has ‘my’ cold. See? It’s ‘my’ cold, and I have given it to him. Well that shows what a kind and sharing human being I am. So, I’m now waiting to see if we go gallivanting looking at properties this Saturday, or if he takes to his sickbed. I know which my money is on – after all, he is a man! Though, in fairness, he is a brave little soldier when he wants to be.
Take care my lovelies x