Backdating like buggery
So, it is April. The daffs are high, the trees are wreathed in a faint swathe of green mist of Buds, the showers are plentiful but often… warm, which is peculiar because even in high summer, Scottish rain is meant to chill you to the bone. And I have as yet to write anything about what I got up to in March. While the world has hardly stopped in its tracks due to this, I’ve spent five years writing reams and reams of drivel about my nonentity of a life, and Not doing it just doesn’t feel right. Although if you are reading this, I survived. I shall therefore attempt to scratch the itch by seeing how much I can remember of the last month. Firstly, there was the Surprise Stomach Bug of Death, which resulted in Actual Sick Time Off Work (previous Actual Sick Time Off Work in last three years: one day, for… Surprise Stomach Bug!) Then I accidentally became a very tiny amount famous and got Hounded By the Press and the Paparazzi. Okay, only by one of each, but it was quite stressful because I was still stricken with the lurgy. Being famous: officially as crap as I always suspected (and that’s before the nutters pile in!)
Then I waited around for Operation Frankenstein Part Four like the Lady of Shalot, got bored, repainted the bathroom, finally got an ‘art’ done, made a batch of pear cider, dug over the Alittlement and had Adventures in Muck, which is not as x-rated as it sounds, cancelled every. Single. Party that I was invited to (and there were quite a few) because I was so stressed at being Behind with Doing The Sums, and… suddenly it was April.
When I got Hounded By the Press all over again, had bad news of Incoming Family Obligations!!! and Operation Frankenstein looks finally set to start. The things I do for (miniscule amounts of) cash, le sigh.
Damn article hasn’t even run yet, I don’t know if they’re gonna make me out to be a lunatic or not (my money is on: yes) and even if they don’t, I cannot wait to see what the peanut gallery make of me. By which I mean, I don’t want to find out at all and will be Crushed, I tell you!
Still, I have a mate From School who is now a policewoman (in the area! and also does homebrew! We should totally meet up! When we are not busy, ahahaha) and who sayeth unto muggins here, Belt up about what the public think of you, eh, if you think that’s bad, you should try having my job. And this is very true. Although she has a hubby and kids who love her very much, which I imagine must provide some form of Magical Shield against the world. Having none of that, I have to rely on my trusty ego, which is about as much use as cellophane in the face of a neutron bomb. So a bit of an ego-kicking-workout could be just the thing!
A bit, I said.
And so, on with the show.