I seem to have lost my words this week.
I really don't have the words to express how violently, apoplectically angry this makes me.
I can't describe how exhausted and wretched I still feel because I haven't got rid of this lurgy yet.
I don't know how to explain the emotions that have been stirred up by the news that my aunt is in hospital, dying, from cancer that's spread through her entire body. Update: have just got word that she died at 8.45 this morning.
I didn't know what to say to my mum when she started crying during the phone call where she told me about my aunt.
I have reports to write for work. I know what I want to say, but somehow, when I try to write it down, the words desert me.
If you happen to spot my words, wandering aimlessly, like a bunch of feckless teenagers bunking off school to hang around the local shopping centre while drinking cheap cider, could you do the decent thing and give them in a kick in the arse and send them back to me?
Thanks.
It finally happened. I finally got my snow.
Station Exit
Snowy Steps
Snowy Path
Palace Stairs
Footsteps
Icy Posts
Bench
Now, all it needs to do is sit, and stay, like good snow, until I can get home, get my camera and then take pictures of it.
Well I'm not entirely sure what happened last week, but it seems that Murphy was messing with my head.
First I started to get ill the day of a gig I'd been looking forward to for ages.
Then everything went a bit wrong, meaning that we left the house at a run, late to meet people and generally frazzled.
The gig was great, a fantastic time was had by all, and much dancing and drinking was done.
The next day I had the worst hangover of my life, which confused me rather a lot, because I'd stuck to drinking the same thing all night and wasn't actually very drunk.
Now I realise that what was pretending to be hangover was actually the lurgy, which arrived with full force on Monday morning and hasn't really left yet.
I could recount all the stuff that's gone wrong in the last week, but it's too depressing, so you'll just have to take my word for it that it didn't go anywhere near to plan, but that despite everything, it wasn't as bad as it could have been.
Now I'm back at work and scrabbling to catch up.
C'est la vie!
So, it seems every other blogger has a birthday this week.
Which obviously makes it the classiest week in the blog calendar to have a birthday in.
Which makes it very appropriate that I perform the classiest of birthday greeings for a very special (and very classy) person.
So here goes:
[clears throat]
[coughs long and loudly, almost choking in places]
[takes a deep breath]
[coughs some more]
[takes another deep breath]
[coughs some more, this time taking a drink of water]
[takes another deep breath]
Haaaaaappppy Biiiiirthday [wheeze] toooo yoooooooooouuuuuu....
[takes a deep breath and dissolves into another coughing fit]
Haaaaaaaaaaappppy Biiiiiiiiirthday [wheeze, cough, splutter] tooooooooo yoooooooooouuuuuu....
Haaaaaaaaaaappppy Biiiiiiiiirthday [wheeze, choke] deeeearest hunnybunnysnugglywuggly [ok, i'm making myself sick here, never mind you lot, sorry.] birthday boooooy...
[enormous eye-watering sneeze]
Haaaaaaappppy Biiiiiiiiirthday [strangled squeak, wheeze, cough] tooooooooo yoooooooooouuuuuu....
[collapses in a heap, reaching for glass of water and box of kleenex balsam]
Have lurgy.
Just in time for the three days holiday I'd booked for Wed/Thu/Fri this week.
First the bees.
Now the snot.
Bored now.
Another day, another bee in my bloody bedroom.
This is getting ridiculous.
The wardrobe has been emptied and moved, the carpet has been pulled up and any gaps in the floorboards have been sealed up.
The chimney has been sealed up with cardboard and tape.
I can't think where else they might be coming from.
If there's another bee in my room tomorrow morning, I will actually lose my marbles.
Submitted to Photo Friday: Luscious.
Taken in the fantastically named Blue Ball Yard, which we discovered while searching for Pickering Place, so we could join in this week's challenge on The Way We See It.
Lessons I learned from watching Creep:
If you're out in the centre of London late at night after a party, do not go here:
Bad things live there.
And Franka Potente runs around in a hideous dress managing to be the only one not FUBAR'd, which actually, seemed a bit of a shame, by the end.
Ok, so not exactly covered... but what's with all the Bees?
Two weeks ago, a bee appeared on my living room carpet. No idea where it came from. Didn't make a noise, just appeared. Under Adrian's leg.
After a small amount of shrieking, it was despatched to the cold January air, and I thought no more about it.
Until this morning.
Lying in bed, snuggling and reading because I was awake and Adrian was still gently snoring, when I heard something.
Bzzz.
Bzzzz...
"EEeeek"
I put the book down and stopped, still.
"BZZzzz...!"
Slightly worried, I peered over the side of the bed.
There, on the floor, was a Bee.
"Bee!"
"huh....?"
"Beee!! On the floor! BEE!"
"wha...?"
Long story short, he rescued me from the bee, herding it gently out my bedroom window.
What I want to know, tho, is:
How did it get onto my bedroom carpet, given that there are no windows open in the house, and my bedroom door is closed?
To that matter, how did the other bee get onto the living room carpet (and into Anna's house)?
Aren't bees supposed to be dead or hibernating in the winter?
Is there a conspiracy of teleporting stealth bees, stalking bloggers in order to gain publicity for their plan to take over the world?
Given that I'm allergic to bee and wasp stings, why don't I have an Epipen?
I just took a sip of Rioja and found myself thinking "Mmmm... that tastes really quite buttery..."
Sometimes I like to read the news to give my mind a quick break from whatever it is I'm doing. I often find it therapeutic, and it sometimes doubles as a reality check, letting me know that however big I think my problems are, there are people with bigger problems.
Other times, it has the opposite effect, turning me into the ranty equivalent of the Hulk, in that I don't go green and smash things, but I do rant long and loudly to anyone who has the misfortune to be within earshot when I initially harrumph and is daft enough to ask what I'm harrumphing about.
This is one of those weeks.
So far this week there's been the decision to scrap Co-Proxamol and the Incapacity Benefit Overhaul, both of which I have experience of and very strong opinions about.
Unfortunately (or possibly fortunately for you, dear reader), I don't have the time to do either of these rants justice (or make them coherent) at the moment.
But both issues are bugging me to a quite serious degree, and I had to do something before the veins in my forehead burst, and this was the next best thing.
... the online home and (not very) alter(ed)-ego of Ann McMeekin, a recently freelance Web Accessibility Consultant.
... passionate about many things, most of which will turn up on this site at some time or other.
... contactable via email.
Design and content copyright 2000-2007 pixeldiva, except where noted.
Copyright of comments remains with the individual author.
All rights reserved.
