Monday
AM. Did nothing all weekend, except clean the congealed spots of god-knows-what from the bathroom floor and then I went over to Bessie Mate Fiona’s and did hers too. Have to say, Aldi are certainly the front runners when it comes to being your one stop shop for all affordable cleaning and hygiene related products.
PM. To do: buy more of those handy anitbac wipes, great for getting those encrusted kitchen counters gleaming again… and they’re flushable!
Tuesday
AM. Bloody hell, just read the above; what’s happening to me!? I need a night of raucous debauchery, stat! I used to tear people’s houses apart, not give them a good spit and polish.
PM. Office wide discussion on house parties and how they were a weekly feature during the college years. Typically, you brazenly show up at a party at the flat of someone you never even heard of. You’d arrive with two cans, end up drinking eight, snog some long haired greasy tit from Engineering, then puke on the landing and finally wake up on a couch with drool on your chin, a mouth like sandpaper and a head like a pneumatic drill. Happy days!
Wednesday
AM. Spent the morning trying to convince random colleagues to have a house party but they’re all too concerned with their feckin hard wood floors. Bollocks. A rip roaring knees up is just the thing I need to liberate me from my dull mid-30s slump.
PM. Aha! Just remembered it’s my nephew’s 8th birthday party this week… it’ll have to do. Will wangle an invite.
Thursday
AM. On to the brother last night and it seems that I am still in the party bad books after making a disgrace of myself last year. As far as I’m concerned, I won Pass the Parcel fair and square, and I didn’t cheat by holding on to the parcel for longer than I had to like most of the kids there. But oh no, apparently adults have to forfeit prizes just so kids can feel good about themselves. Told my brother I may have to think about whether or not I’ll go as I have a very full schedule.
PM. Just thinking, my brother has a bloody cheek! At least I bother to interact with the kids rather that doing what all the other adults do, i.e., sit in a corner quaffing wine, cackling and gorging on Rice Krispie buns.
Friday
AM. Still feeling sore about being told the correct way to ‘behave’ at a party. Agony Aunt Kay has been helping me as I struggle with re-surfacing traumatic memories from my childhood; specifically how, when I was seven years old, I got ejected from David Reid’s 7th birthday party for perpetuating the urban myth that if you eat a bag of Space Dust while drinking a can of Coke your insides will explode.
PM. After reaching a breakthrough with Agony Aunt Kay and consulting with Owen, I have decided to be gracious and go to the party. Rang my brother again to promise him I’d behave like an ‘adult’, and even managed to stop short of calling him an arse face git.
