Bugger Uranus – or maybe it’s Saturn!
Having had the proper holiday its noses to the grindstone until Paris this weekend. And before you waggle your finger and accuse me of living the life of Reilly, I’ve been invited to stay with a friend who has promised to give me a guided tour of the romantic city so that when the time’s right I’ll take the old git on a guided tour of the city that I would have had this weekend..
Did you know that tartar makes the teeth go yellow?
No neither did I, my hygenist told me that as she poked and scraped my gums at 8.15 this morning.
She’s lovely and is really articulate in the art of one-way conversation I merely dribble and blink my eyes to signify that I have heard her.
I left Kent at 8.45 and arrived at the flat by 10.15
Bill the electrician came and measured up my fan in the bath room, and then I was off to try and retrieve my petrol cap from the only garage I could have left it in. I was saved by the bell actually, as my mobile started to ring at the very same moment the garage-forecourt-attendent was about to bore me to death.
I had a weekend of processing an acute case of manipulation and a vile case of bullying.
The first challenge was how to deal with a money issue that I had got involved in. I had suggested that somebody lent some money to somebody else, the somebody else cant pay the somebody the sum in question so I was curtly emailed to pay off the debt. The introduction of the two was done as a random act of mercy, I dare say there’s a legal position on this, but my take was more about friendship and shock. I fired off a considered email but havent heard back.. The somebody else has had to declare bankruptcy so the somebody will have to whistle for it. Not in my direction I hope.
That one exhausted me.
The second challenge was having to deal with a man who has no common sense, no compassion and too much power. Dealing with his crass, thoughtless comments ruined my enjoyment of Team GB. By the time we had lost yet another Olympic medal I felt like Tom Daley all wobbly on me diving board.
Forgiveness is easy after you have clapped the bully around the mouth. But I didnt get to do that so I have had to deal with a seething bubbling rage.
I know I have to forgive him. I know its not life and death, but me and unreasonableness, it’s like caging Colin Farrell and expecting him to come out purring when the doors unlocked. I will never be able to say to this man what I want to say because he has too much power and I’m not in a position to to be able to crack his nuts, and I don’t mean pistachios. But all in good time, that doesn’t mean I will seek revenge it means I truly do believe in Divine Justice.
The best revenge, I’m told, is success.
So there we have it.
I am falling asleep over the keyboard, but I am about to make celery soup, and then drive off to North London for a birthday celebration, only the way Ii feel I may just end up in bed with Rick Wakeman and his organ.
Not my choice it may well become the book of the week.
Night night and may the Gods of Justice be on your side.