Sunday 6th September 2009
I’m pushing an elephant up the stairs…let’s hope that Shane doesn’t find out about it, you know how he feels about having pets in the house, he’ll go mad. It’s bad enough when he discovers dust on the stairs, I shudder to think what he’d do if he stepped in a pile of steaming elephant poop on his way upstairs, this houseboy’s bum would be toast, and yes, I am talking utter drivel, it’s Drivel Sunday, didn’t you know? It’s actually a legal obligation to talk utter drivel on Drivel Sunday. If you don’t you’re libel to a fine of ten quid and six months community service. So, mark it in your diary for next year, 6th September, Drivel Sunday, or whatever day the 6th of September falls on next year. Elephants, to get back on subject, can’t climb at all, they’re not as versatile as goats, that’s why they need to be pushed, they couldn’t climb stairs under their own steam if they tried, in fact I doubt they could be pushed, not manually, it would be best to get a stair lift put in, if you insist on having an elephant as a houseguest. Anyway, setting aside elephants, because they are very heavy, what you may ask, am I fucking talking about? Let me explain.
It was recently decided by he who must be obeyed that the house was being overrun with clutter and he wanted some of it clearing out, pronto, mush-mush, subito. So, I hit on the idea of a car boot sale. The boyfriends approved the idea but declined to participate, no way were they rubbing shoulders with the common folk at some tatty flea market. And so, early yesterday morning, Eileen and I packed assorted junk into bags and boxes and headed off to a rickety stall that we’d rented in the Green Dragon yard. The weather wasn’t so good, it was a bit windy and apt to shower, but we had fun. I got shot of a load of books, CD’s and DVD’s plus a heap of the Marvel and DC comics that I have a penchant for. The trouble with flea markets is that while you might get rid of your own clutter you can’t resist buying other folk’s clutter. I ended up acquiring a heap of stuff to take back home with me. I left most of it in Eileen’s car boot. I’ll sneak it into the house when the Daddies go back to work tomorrow. I bought more books and CD’s including a best of R.E.M. that I’ve been playing non-stop. My fave track is ‘The Great Beyond’ I can’t stop singing it, especially the first chorus…that’s where the elephant train of thought comes from. I’ve got it on repeat play. It drives the boyfriends potty when I play the same track over and over again. It’ll be interesting to see which of them cracks first and demands that I change the fucking tune. I also impulsively bought a skateboard; I used to be pretty nifty on a skateboard. I can’t wait to try it out.
We’re having a dinner as opposed to a Sunday lunch today. Leo and Mike are coming over this evening. I haven’t seen Mike in absolutely ages; he’s been working away, over in Germany. It’ll be nice to catch up with him.
I’ve got an appointment with my neurologist tomorrow. I’m hoping that he’ll agree to change the dosage of my meds. I had to increase them when I started having the nocturnal episodes back in June. Apart from the fact that they make my skin awful, they also make me feel foggy minded and I hate it. I haven’t had any clear episodes lately, so fingers crossed that he’ll agree to me reducing the dosage.
I’m being summoned; alpha Daddy is calling me…he’s probably found that elephant I left in the middle of the stairs.
Thursday 17th September 2009:
Dear Diary,
I just thought I’d pop in and wish you a happy birthday. It’s been three years since you were born. Sometimes it feels much longer, but then so does my dick, it depends what mood I’m in and whether or not it’s a cold day. I know, I know, I’m a rude houseboy.
I’ve just got back from the doctors, I’ve had a stinking cold and as per usual it affected my sinuses. It’s really painful, I’ve got a constant headache and I feel like my eyes are about to pop out of their sockets. I was prescribed a course of antibiotics, which of course means my intestines will turn to liquid and I’ll never be off the loo for the next week.
Well, just a quick visit today, my head is thumping and I’m going to swallow some painkillers, make myself a comforting mug of hot chocolate and then curl up on the couch and read for a while. I’m reading ‘Private Peaceful’ by Michael Morpurgo. It was among the books I picked up at the flea market. It’s brilliant. It’s set in the First World War. I started it last night and I couldn’t put it down. I would have read it straight through, but Shane plucked it out of my hands, shoved it under his pillow, switched off the reading lamp and yanked me down beside him. He didn’t say a word, but I got the message. It was almost one in the morning and he does have to be up early and so do I, so I can’t really complain and besides, it wouldn’t do any good if I did.
Have a nice birthday, dear diary, and I’ll talk to you again soon. xx
