I can't eat, I can't sleep any more…
But alas, I’m not in love – which is probably a good thing since I can’t swallow either.
(Warning: this is the mandatory bloggers’ “I’m feeling so ill, sooo ill” type-post. Feel free to ignore.)
I seem to have all the classic symptoms of a flu – or maybe it’s the cold. Headache, sore throat, aching muscles and I’m not doing a particularly good job of thinking today.
The worst thing, though, when you have a sore throat and can’t communicate beyond grunts and lowly-spoken words. And then you have to nip down the corridor to get some lunch (soup, naturally since I can’t swallow anything anyway!). Then colleagues will see you walking down the corridor and give you a cheerful wave – and all you can return with is a grunt and a general nod.
I did try saying somethign to one of them, but a bit of the morning’s milk suddenly decided to return up my throat and I only just swallowed it in time.
Yes, I knew, typical male over-reaction. Yeah, right. We don’t bleed every 28 days (well, most men don’t) so we’re not used to this!
Squirming at teen movies
One time, my flatmate put on a Swedish teenage lesbian melodrama, which was utterly predictable – and also totally emotionally squirmy. So much so, that I had to leave the room.
There was no “hot” lesbian action in the film – just two teenagers from different sides of the popularity tracks slowly fumbling towards their feelings for each other. But for some reason, the sheer emotional nudity on show – plus all that mawkish teenage sentiment really had me on edge. It’s been the same with pretty much all films with teenagers in a high school – even the comedies. I still haven’t seen Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, or The Sure Thing.
Why this is, I wouldn’t even like to begin to speculate. My childhood wasn’t terrible by any means – I’m still friends with a few of my childhood pals. I had a few embarassing moments, but haven’t we all… Maybe I hate emotional melodrama…
I don’t know why I bothered owning a car. I just don’t.
I had to renew my car tax. Which unfortunately involves presenting your car insurance and MOT (car roadworthiness) documents.
This sorry saga starts when I realise that despite diligent paperwork filing procedures (it all goes in a huge pile), I had lost said documents. So I applied to get new insurance documents – this took ten days to arrive, on the day my car tax ran out.
So I go to the post office to renew my car tax, and after spending 20 mintues smelling wee and pee everywhere (top tip: Do not go to the Post Office on a Monday morning, there’s shuffling old people everywhere) the lady at the counter helpfulyl tells me that i also need my MOT documentation. Which seems to have gone the way of the original car insurance documents.
So I take the car to work, to get the car checked over by the MOT people. And they inform me that it’s failed, because of two bald tyres and that they couldn’t do the emissions test because, and I quote, “they couldn’t find the engine”. It’s the big huge block under the bonnet!
So I get to the car, at which point it’s pouring with rain and hailstoning. Get in the car, reverse to get out, and somehow manage to ram the side of a golden car that had suddenly appeared out of the mist. To top it all, the car belongs to a Very Important Work Person. But since I confessed all, my karma is good.
Unfortunately, my bank balance won’t be. Due to all these snafus, I’ve had to declare the vehicle off-road until it can pass its MOT. And I’ll have to pay for the damage to the car. Not to mention the forthcoming fine for not having car tax in the first place.
Did I mention I hate cars?
People mangling Welsh…
Once in a while, when I feel like I know what I’m doing (or it’s a special day like today – St. Davids Day, patron saint of Wales etc.), I’ll occasionally dare to utter a sentence or two in Welsh instead of English when speaking to an appropriate person who would understand what I’m saying.
And then I’ll get th impression that I sound a tad pretentious, presumptious and silly. After all, if someone dropped a Chinese phrase into a mostly-English conversation, my head would jerk back and I’d be mildly annoyed or piqued.
Is it just me, or do English speakers who drop in a line of Welsh sound silly/stupid/arrogant when doing so?
Oh, and hello to the various Cymru philes out there!