I’m on fire

So, where were we? I have no idea. I was having a Pollyanna moment, and then I had to saddle up and trek round the relatives because so many of them have birthdays all at once, and I ate so much cake I think I have sugar poisoning. But as to where we’ve got to in the Grand Adventure of May versus Her Reproductive Organs, ie main point of this here blog? Eh.

At least none of the rellies had anything at all to say to me about my insides/lack of mini-me. All too preoccupied with As Mentioned Previously on this blog, weddings, other people’s new babies, Mothering Sunday (oh, I am vile. Minx had completely forgotten about it and Trouble got nothing and I quietly went into the other room and was Amused. I am asking for a smiting), divorce, and also, small children falling out of trees (no harm done, fret not), baking, lambing, making egg mayonnaise, scones, whether or not a large bottle of gin is an appropriate gift for someone getting divorced (of course it is. Stupid question), train time-tables and whether tea is an appropriate refreshment at nine o’clock in the evening (of course it is. Stupid question).

And then it was back home to the officially sanctioned mix of insomnia, anxst and caffeine abuse. Do you think these could possibly be related?

Oh, I outdid myself on Sunday night. For some reason I was freezing cold, also, it was past one in the morning, I needed the loo, and H was snoring in a kind of baritone trill most soothing to the bagpiper and most fucking annoying to all other mortals. I was mighty peeved. I gave up on harrumphing, stealing the duvet back and whacking H in the small of the back and went for a full-on flounce, complete with flicking the lights on to find the hot-water-bottle and stomping. Naturally this woke H up, hahaha, and he was querulously asking me what the matter was, did I want him to sleep in the spare room or something, and I was ignoring him, or, rather, being too tired and fractious to work out what the right words were in English if I wasn’t allowed to use ‘for fuck’s sake’ or ‘damn your pretty green eyes anyway’ or even ‘shut up’. So, very fortunately, not that I deserved it, H was on hand when I squeezed the over-full hottie too hard and poured a cascade of scalding water over my breast. I flung the offending rubber bastard to the floor (unclever, as it was full of water) and tore my tee-shirt from me, sprinting to the bathroom to splash cold water on my wounded bosom, while H patiently mopped up the spill and refilled the hot-water-bottle before retiring to the spare room for the last few rags and tatters of the night.

Why yes, it is sore, thank you for asking, but no blisters, lord be thankit.

No, I haven’t slept well since, either. I am noticeably cognitively impaired now.

And then I had a gut rebellion this morning, damn it, and ended up sitting on the bog with icy blue feet for over an hour, not daring to get off and go find my slippers. I don’t suppose I can blame that on lack of sleep, but I’d sure as hell like to. Heigh ho, at least I thought to take a book in with me.

And no, there’s no point to this post, beyond general whining, and also, I am writing this on my husband’s iPad, and it is bloody fiddly, and did I mention my higher brain functions have been destroyed by lack of sleep?

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10 responses to “I’m on fire

  • Bionic Baby Mama

    at least you remembered the book. nothing worse than being stuck in there for hours, reading the back of the toothpaste tube over and over, making anagrams of the ingredients.

  • a

    Good thinking on the book – I keep my cryptogram puzzle book in there for just those sorts of situations.

    Next time, I would suggest spilling the hot water on the snoring person…OK, well, maybe that’s a bit extreme, but being kept awake is annoying.

    Here’s what I don’t understand about Europe (including the British Isles) – how is it that they can develop civilization, conquer the world, have fantastic advances in science, literature, and art…and not come up with an efficient method of heating their abodes? I’ve only experienced this in Italy and Ireland, but my sister was stationed in the UK and assures me it’s true there too. Blue feet in the bathroom *shakes head*

    • Amy P

      That and no screens on the windows. OK, so I can see that with buildings older than this country, but buildings younger than me?

    • May

      We were too busy developing civilization, conquering the world, having fantastic advances in science, literature, and art… We could’ve always swapped conquering the world for hypocausts. Or not even – the Romans managed both.

      The funny thing is, it’s properly Spring here and the weather’s quite mild. And the damn bathroom is STILL freezing cold. Perhaps it’s haunted.

      • Solnushka

        Proper heating makes you soft. That’s why we conquered the world. It’s since we got central heating that the UK has slid into decline and blah blah blah.

  • HairyFarmerWifey

    Oh, MAY! Your poor bosom! Your poor gut! Your poor feet!

  • Korechronicles

    I let the rubber bastard peel the calloused skin off my fingers on one never to be forgotten occasion and can only say “OW OW AND BLOODY DAMNED OOOOWWWW” even thinking about it happening to my bosom.

    And Jeebers woman! How sucky is it adding poor sleep to the burden you are already carrying. Would send Scotch but have used it all for medicinal purposes recently.

  • Womb For Improvement

    Ouchy! What part of you hasn’t been in the wars? (I sort of hanker for an Ipad but I know the tying would frustrate me beyond belief – which my my figuring means I have saved £400! Kerching)

  • Solnushka

    Hope all your owchy cits have recovered now. And H has stopped snoring.

  • twangy

    Hunh? Where am I? I don’t know how those days passed.

    But really, perfidious hot water bottle! I hope the soreness has subsided.

    Similarly on the guts. Poor things. And the snoring. The Most Annoying Noise in the World, mainly because the other person has the NERVE to sleep through it. WOE!

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