Everytime I breath its sound like the voice box of an elderly dolphin is being run-over by a a 4x4. Attractive? Oh yes. Nothing worse than being freaked out by your own breathing at 5am. Chest infections are fabulous things, if only for the fact it gave me a "get out of jail free card" for exam last Wednesday.
The Russell Howard and Jon Richardson radio shows are slowly - in my head - evolving into a bible of sorts. I find myself abiding the commandments of Rice Krispies, health & safety, skidders, the joys of Swindon, monkeys and questioning "Am I normal?". It has become a frame of reference for everything.
I seen two of the chavviest women in Tesco this evening. They had an impressive line-up of snacks. When I say "impressive" I really mean that it would induce a panic attack in even Gillian McKeith, the most cold-hearted, funless shrewy bitch on the planet. I then realised I was probably more deserving of the scrutiny, having just bought a kiddie's Buttons yoghurt with the probably obvious intention of eating it alone. Of a Friday.
I think Penneys forgot to pay me... or I've spent far more than i realise. Doctor's bills in themselves are sickening. Praying on the weak? You make me sick.
One thing I did learn at my first day proper in Penneys is that its very hard to take a person seriously when they insist on pluralising words needlessly. Nit-picking? Yes, it is. But you try keeping a straight face when someone says "underpants-es".
"Then after your underpants-es, you put on your trousers's's's. Then socks-es."
Not too much to arks?!
I rediscovered the magic of Count Duckula this week. It's amazing! And almost as amazing is that in the depths of my memory, most of the episodes are still lodged there. Nanny has a Bristol accent, I think she may be the root of my new found desire to go to Bristol. Everywhere I go and everything I do, there's mention of Bristol.
The boy's urine is now beginning to congeal on the floor. Surely he realises he is pissing on the floor? I'm not cleaning it. Well, I lie. I do clean it it off the floor. But only because if I don't choose to, the the ends of my jeans will mop it up of its own accord. I think he has a OCD with closing and opening doors. I've had a lot of free time this week, what with being ill.
A girl at work was strangely impressed by my surname. I can knock a few puns out of it, even the evil history teacher in Germany made some (shite) jokes about it. But I fail to see its 'wow' factor.
I've never had meatloaf, but Christ and cribbins, I really want some now. Probably because my food intake this week consisted mostly of toast and lemsip.
I shall sleep for now, I'm working 12 hours in a total of 24. Joy.
