Rats and Calls

I’m meant ot be going to TENDER’s charity do tonight in Soho.
I say I’m meant to be going but I do what I always do, put on my pj’s and then oscillate between conscience and armchair.
I’ve no excuse really.
I am understanding the show better, day by day, why I even went out for a pre-broadcast-power-walk.
My ankle isn’t totally better so running is still out of my reach but this morning I had ten minutes up to Battersea bridge and ten minutes back. The light was luminescent, the river dazzling and the boats by the bridge stood out in bold relief.
I had to walk really fast, my hands started out freezing, by the time I got back to the flat I was toasty warm.

I leapt into a shallow bath with baby bubbles and two flannels.
Washed my hair and set off for LBC at 11.o’clock.
It takes me precisely, well not precisely, approximately 15 minutes on a good day and 20 minutes on a less than good day to reach the studio.
I like punctuality, I boasted about it yesterday, which meant I could not afford to be one minute late. I was actually 29 seconds early.
Do I sound anal? God maybe it’s radio.
We did Dentists. Worra confusing state of affairs we seem to have got ourselves into, NHS versus Private versus Eastern Europe. By gum but we had our mouths full with your calls.
Because of the price of fixtures and fillings some of us are even pulling our own teeth. The debate went on for nearly two hours then a ‘Jan’ texted in to say enough already it was like pulling teeth.
The debate carried on right past the Chinese dentist – what do you mean you don’t know that joke….tooth hurty…yes 2.30.
Then we cirumnavigated ourselves from teeth to Rats. There are too many of ’em for my liking but one dear Kiwi called in and told us about his pet dumbo rat that shares the flat with him and his patient housemates. I was told the proper name for rat phobia but can’t remember it, I know it begins with ‘N’, it’s quite a long word. That has now given me Sesquipedalophobia: which is a fear of long words
We then back doubled into Dementia. The stories were so sad it made me weep.
One chap said it was good to talk, in that moment I felt really useful.
I called my mother, who listens everyday on her new radio in her kitchen, and she asked me if I could be a bit more jolly tomorrow.
Maybe…It depends on what’s in the top ten stories.
After the show I had my picture took by a professional snapper. The first time I had been in front of a camera without having my make-up or hair done. I felt rotten exposed – not literally the photgrapher really knew his aperture from his orifice, but I shall ask for them to use my old pictures until I can get some proper ones done.
Got back in 20 minutes, so it was less than a good journey but finally the garage door is now fixed at the flat so I have parked my car, safely, underground.
My hesitation about going out tonight is that my new debit card is back in the cottage, my oyster card is in a bin somewhere which means I’m cash embarrassed and ill equipped for the Number 19.
Can’t believe I’m less than enthusiastic about hopping on my fave Arrivamobile. I might just take the 239 to Victoria, buy a new Oyster card, with what? and then take 2 stops on the tube; I’m meant to be going out to have a laugh..
Can you believe what a dither I’m in it must be the moon either that or pteronophobia – the fear of being Tickled by Feathers
I have 30 minutes to get to Soho. I will arrive fashionably late, watch the music and comedy then slip out into the night.
Now though I have to look out for the rats…..bring back the Pied Piper.
Tarra and cu 2morrer.