For firstly, the Cold of Filth became the Larynx of Filth, tired of that, attempted the Sinus Infection of Filth, and has now settled down into the Hoarse Barking Cough of Filth With Added Blocked Nose.
For secondly, the period, oy vey, but where does it get off hurting like that? By hurting, I don’t mean I go ‘ow’ and feel grumpy. I mean I feel faint and sick and have to lie down and groan and can’t eat and no painkiller seems to do more than take the edge off – the worst cramps seem to be suddenly relieved by the passing of a blood-clot of distressing size, whereapon I get a couple of hours of feeling quite comfortable, thank you, before it starts building up again. Is this normal? Anyway, the whole thing is ludicrous. It’s only a freaking period. I’m supposed to have periods. And here the stupid thing is, ruining my weekend, I can’t leave the house I feel so appalling (the Cold of Filth is so not helping with that), it’s Christmas on Thursday, I want a hysterectomy right now this minute, why the hell aren’t I pregnant for Christmas, woe is me, sob sob flail.
And thirdly, the central heating and the hot water both run off the same neat little combi-boiler, which we keep on the kitchen wall. On Saturday afternoon I was pottering in the kitchen during one of my ‘golly, I can stand up straight’ intervals when I noticed a pool of water on the counter. I wiped it up. It reappeared. Shit. H came over to investigate, and realised the water was seeping out from the boiler. Double shit. He opened it up and found the leak, in the central heating part, and also found it was not the sort of leak he could stop with a whack from a spanner. Triple shit. We wedged a bucket under it and tried calling the out-of-hours number for the land-lord, the people who maintain the boiler, all the other numbers for the land-lord, the boiler people again, round and round, no answer no answer, meanwhile the sodding bucket overbalanced and H and I ran around with newspaper and more buckets and said SHIT! so many times it became quite funny, and H even said FUCK! which is quite unlike him (I am the potty-mouth in this relationship), and H fitted the bucket with an extra support and a siphon system, which was exceedingly clever, and we phoned and phoned and phoned and no one answered and I hurt like the bloody blue blazes and had to go and lie down again and all the water drained out of the radiators and with the pressure in the boiler down to zero, the boiler decided it couldn’t possibly do hot water EITHER, and we both nearly cried. And then H had to get up at 4 am to make sure the bucket hadn’t overflowed (it hadn’t, and was nowhere near overflowing as the radiators were completely empty by then). (But if he hadn’t set the alarm and got up, it would have, Murphy’s Law). So now we have no hot water at all and no central heating. Thank everything, there is a gas fire in the living-room. Also, three blankets on the bed on top of the duvet.
On a minor note, fourthly, I have just washed my hair using a bucket of warm water and a large mug. And then it got tangled and I went slightly (or, possibly, completely) mad and hacked the tangle out with H’s beard scissors and then H had to neaten the resulting mess and hey! I have had a hair cut! Not drastic, but a good two to three inches. Which was a slight surprise. And I am very glad I have wildly curly hair as I am quite sure it’s still a bit uneven and dorky. But with curls, who can tell? Please tell me you can’t tell.
Fifthly, H’s grandmother, the alas completely dotty one who is bed-blocking in the local hospital because they can’t find a place in a care-home for her, got a Cold of Filth also and is now too ill to get out of bed, which is extremely worrying. Little old ladies should not get Colds of Filth. I don’t know whether to hope that the person who passed it to her finds out what he or she did and Learns To Be A Better Person, or doesn’t ever find out, because oy vey the guilt.
And sixthly, I realised the other day that I should of course be the size of a freaking house and going on maternity leave right about now. This pissed me off very much indeed.
But seventhly, Clomid take 4 starts tonight instead. So I can go Jekyll and Hyde in style on Christmas Day