All By Myself
D Day approaches. Dearest is safely tucked up in hospital bemoaning the fact she can't have a couple of glasses of wine before "lights out". Tomorrow is the big day. She's second on the list and goes down to the theatre at around 2:00pm. 2 hours later and it should all be over. It's going to be a long, long day.
The hospital where she is operates one of those personal TV/radio/telephone consoles that are attached to anglepoise contraptions for easy viewing. So, apart from he usual terrestial channels, she has a few of the less threatening digi channels to peruse as well.
Tonight's choice of film is a bit unfortunate though: The English Patient.
After visiting (myself natch, Youngest, Eldest, Eldest's Darlin' and young 'un), I returned home. One of Dearest's oldest friends phoned thinking the op was today. Later I settled down to watch a DVD we bought with a magazine attached for about £2:50. It was the first ever Morse. Strangely it was directed by Anthony Minghella who, I think, also directed The English Patient. Synchronicity or what?
I was listening to 5Live earlier and, amid all the speculation regarding Rio Ferdinand and the England squad, there was an interview with a 15 year old girl from Leeds who had - we were informed - "school-phobia"
"So the doctors have diagnosed you with a condition called school-phobia, how did this phobia start?"
"At my old school the kids used to spit on me, throw stuff at me and set fire to my hair. They also called me names such as 'fat cow'"
"Oh dear, 'fat cow' ? If you don't mind me asking: how much do you weigh?"
"About 17 stone"
"How tall are you ?"
"About 5 foot six."
"What have the doctors done for you?"
"Nothing, they just send me to Dieticians"
"But the dieticians can advise you on how to eat healthily"
"Yeah but they just tell me to cut down on crisps, sweets, burgers and fizzy drinks."
"But that's correct - you should cut down food like that if you need to lose weight."
"But I'm a teenager. I'm supposed to eat stuff like crisps, sweets, burgers and fizzy drinks."
You're also supposed to get an education you silly bugger. Another couple of years (if not before) and she'll be reproducing more ill-informed mini-versions of herself and blaming everyone but herself for the fact that they don't make nappies big enough for 12 stone toddlers.
Y'know, I'll be able to spread my limbs all over the bed tonight. Safe in the knowledge that I won't be waking Dearest up. I'd much rather be clinging to the edge of the bed though - with Dearest spreading her, much lovelier, appendages here, there and everywhere.
Can't wait to get her home again.
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