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Tuesday, 12 June 2012

A Day In The Glamorous Life Of A Writer...

So, this morning I was awoken by the dulcet tones of my dog announcing the arrival of a parcel. It doesn't matter how many times I try to explain it to her, Dog just cannot see the difference between an innocent mail carrier / delivery person, and a horde of ravenous vampire zombies from which Dog must protect her feeble humans, mostly by barking like a maniac and charging up and down the stairs. Presumably her defence strategy consists of rendering said vampire zombies deaf...or something.

I may have managed to ignore this rabble if it hadn't been for Dog knocking to the floor a bunch of jackets and coats in her desperate bid to fend off the horde at the door. I couldn't leave those lying around ( much as I wanted to ) because Dog is also an incurably nosy bugger and she would have been through every pocket, seeking out and chewing up anything she could find, including any stray paper money Housemate may have forgotten to remove from her pockets.


Forced to rise from my comfy, cosy bed ( it may be June, but in Northern Scotland that can equate easily with November in many other parts of the known universe ) I stumbled downstairs and restored the fallen clothing to its rightful place. Then I fetched the offending parcel, and in the process managed to get myself temporarily trapped in the front hallway because the connecting door is a total ass-clown of a thing that just loves to get stuck each time I'm home alone... Finally free, I found my way to the kitchen and there I started a pot of coffee. Whilst that brewed, I opened up the cause of all this early-morning disturbance.

Oh deep joy. My long-awaited item had a piece missing - a piece crucial to its intended fucking purporse! Re-parceling the bastard and sending it back would've cost me more than the item did, plus I'd already realized it wouldn't be appropriate for its intended purpose anyway ( the walls in this house are mainly flimsy plasterboard and this was a heavy bugger of a thing ) so I decided to keep it and set it to a different purpose. That prompted a fit of tidying away needless shit and dusting of surfaces in my bedroom, and by the time I had done with that and remembered about the pot of coffee, it was burnt beyond drinkable. Cue much swearing and stamping around as I put on a fresh pot.

Whilst I waited for my fresh coffee to brew, I cut half a grapefruit and smothered the bitter thing in sugar. I never have sugar, or salt, with anything except grapefruit. I like grapefruit, but boy, it needs some sugar! Apparently I'm not supposed to drink fresh grapefruit with my medication, but I figure that means specifically "don't take your meds with fresh grapefruit juice", and not "don't eat a fresh grapefruit an hour after your meds"...anyway, I also figure if rum, beer, and the occasional Baileys doesn't affect my meds, then what serious harm can a bit of bloody fruit do? I put the sugar bowl away in the fridge afterwards. Because that's where sugar belongs. Not.


Finally able to sit down with my coffee and some cherry yogurt, I decided to check my emails, because they say we women should be able to multitask...Yeah, that's a fucking lie. And cherry yogurt spilled on your keyboard is not a good way to start your online day.

Heading back to the kitchen to fetch some cloths and whatever else I could find to fix the cherry damage with, I stepped in Dog's water dish. Wearing slippers. And no socks. Yuck. And Dog has the brazen cheek to look at me like she's wounded by my klutziness or something! Jeez.

After cleaning my keyboard and checking my emails - the whole time determinedly ignoring my wet slippers and socks and Dog's smug laughing at me - I headed back upstairs to take a shower. For some reason I took my empty coffee cup with me. I stood at the bathroom door, looking at the coffee cup and wondering why in hell I had that with me, then I left it sat on top of a bookcase to take downstairs after my shower. It was nearly 3pm before I spied the cup still sitting on the bookcase and remembered it was me, not Housemate, who left it there.

I intended to spend the rest of the day writing and being terribly productive, but somehow the joy of browsing the jolly old inter-webs for shit that I don't need to spend money on that I don't have overtook all such noble notions, and then there were those DVDs from my birthday still needed watching...and oh, you get the point, right???

Somewhere in the midst of this day, I made the mistake of using Poly-Filla to plaster in some holes in the living room wall made where I'd changed the pictures around and that created something of a mess so I needed to vacuum ( if not, Dog would have eaten the little bits of plaster littering the carpet just like she eats everything )...but the vacuum cleaner was full so it needed emptying and I missed the bin with all that clotted dust and pet hair and assorted carpet furth and I had to clean that up...and just as I was getting done with that, Housemate returned from the store to inform me that an entire box of cola bottles on special offer ( intended for mixing purposes ) had fallen through the bottom of a crappy Lidl bag and smashed to frothy smithereens...and dear sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, if I didn't I just need a goddamned drink by then!!!

Yeah. The life of a writer is really glamorous indeed!


1 comment:

  1. That was excellent!! EXCELLENT I tell ya! hahahaha