I've just been given the biggest humiliation ever. I can't talk about it as it's too crude, but here I am splitting my sides -- it could only ever happen to me!
I've never had a life less ordinary. I consider myself fortunate enough to be touched by a sense of humour, but is it a curse? Wherever I go I find trouble -- doesn't matter where I go, or in what context it may be! My whole day is a battle, my life an open problem page to solve. I can't do anything right, I can't do anything wrong - -What's wrong with me?
I have a car accident and I battle with the insurance company over an excess payment that applies if at fault. IT WASN'T MY FAULT! But becuse they hadn't contacted the other party's insurance and got admission of liability, I had to pay, er sorry! NO WAY! I stood my ground and told them they could whistle for the cash and the car goes nowhere. I'm quite happy to drive around with a dent, it's their loss! Needless to say I won my argument and my car goes into the garage tomorrow, with a courtesy car to boot and no prepayment.
The next battle was with the local council over the road outside my home. It's full of pot holes. I could fall into any one of them and you'd never see me again. In fact I need a helmet, rope and a pick axe when I go out just in case!
My next battle is with the hospital on Monday. It's decision time, a kind of will, I won't I? My GI wants me to have another bout of surgery on my very abstract stomach. I've got more scars than Frankenstein and a button which resembles the valve on a beach ball. My head is a shed and I don't know what to do. I'll see how I feel on Monday, perhaps I'll be in a reasonable mood and not irrational -- whatever! Who cares anyway?
On our own tonight. Daughter away for the weekend, if we go to bed early it will mean nothing but tiredness, gone are the days of passion! I like nothing better than bedsocks, hot water bottle and a good curl up in a nice warm bed. If my hubby had any other ideas it would be a total let down by the time he'd got undressed. Is it my age I wonder, or is it scleroderma, or am I just tetchy. No wonder my mum used to complain so much about getting old. I used to think -- **** I'll never be like that when I get old, and here I am emulating my mother and my hubby the image of my dad. Brrrr! -- perish the thought?
Whoops it's gone quite dark I'm the opposite of Count Dracula -- I go to bed, I can feel it beckoning. The only thing I will sink my teeth into tonight will be a hot milky drink. My goodness I sound so boring! Help! I'm becoming the streotypical middle aged drip. No hope for me then!