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Monday, 11 February 2013

Brutishness


It’s been snowing all day, cold wet flakes that float to the ground then disappear as if they never existed.

Whenever I have nothing to write the first thing that comes to my mind is the weather. I don’t know if it’s laziness or Britishness. My computer tells me it is brutishness. Maybe it’s right.

I pour a glass of red wine, even though I can still taste the minty chewing gum in my mouth. I only had the gum to displace the sugar on my teeth from the fruit pastilles. When I ate the fruit pastilles I split open the pack so I could see the colours and eat them in order of ascending preference. Even with the pick and choose of orange vs red they didn’t last long.

I don’t really take a lunch break; instead I eat while reading emails and then make up for it with brief forays into the internet and twitter at occasional moments. Every time I use the printer I stretch while looking out the window. The printer is less than a yard from my desk.

I yawn loudly knowing no-one can hear me. In my office no one can hear you scream. Not that I've tried.

Today I combed my hair down instead of pushing it up and forward into my normal quiff. It feels more feminine. I run my fingers through my fringe and pretend that I look like Audrey Tautou.

We’ve run out of peas so I put broad beans in a pan to go with the fish and chips; crinkle cut chips because they taste better.

I like to wash up without drying. The pans rest on the draining board at odd angles. Mr Manbag calls this “draining board Jenga”.

The door slams and I hear his footfalls on the stairs.

In the lounge I can hear three different clocks ticking out the seconds, like a trio of metronomes.

My knee hurts. It always hurts. A movement in the wrong direction, pressure on my patella or the cold weather make it ache and when I turn over in bed I use my left leg to push my right around. But when I saw the doctor I said that I am usually in good health. Perhaps being an optimist isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

It’s stopped snowing and the road seems to have dried without me noticing. I should pay more attention to the weather.

7 comments:

Along These Lines ..... said...

“Footfalls.” Now there’s a term I don’t hear too often, unless it’s Samuel Beckett!

ange said...

I love your post! It made me smile. I like its intimacy, humour and honesty. A lovely piece of writing. xx

Sharon Longworth said...

Really enjoyed this. It felt as though you were right here chatting away - about the things that matter, and some that don't really, but are worth saying anyway. Smashing

a wild creature said...

I havent visited your blog for a while and... I think your writing is getting better! It was good before but... this post is so delicious!;)
Interesting and funny and enticing without being about anything specific...
Love it!

Chef Files said...

I believe that you could write 100,000 words on the inside of a ping-pong ball and still make it enjoyable to read.

Reggie said...

Excellent post, I really hate the snow.

T. Roger Thomas said...

I always look forward to reading your writing. Thank you for sharing this piece. I especially enjoyed the "draining board Jenga" line.