Domestic Bliss?!?!?!

The milks off. It didn’t smell like it, and it wasn’t a chunky pour, but it’s on the turn and my tongue is slightly smarting.  Don’t you just hate it when that happens.  Especially when you’ve already smothered your cereal with it and laced your first cup of tea of the morning.  I can’t even go to the garage for more supplies.  It’s 3.30am.  Yep, the curse of bloody insomnia hits again.  Wouldn’t mind but I took a sleeping tablet last night to ENSURE I had a good nights sleep as I’d been in so much pain.  My downfall was taking morphine at the same time.  It seems that my morphine capsules are very special ones…with some ingredient to act on your brain making you wake at the same time every day.  Fabulous.  Only  I’d rather a sensible time and NOT 3 f**cking 30 please….or any hour either side of that….within a couple of hours!

I’d just whipped up a bowl of scrumptious home made muesli. I might even share my recipe with you, coz I’m nice like that….oh yes, Delia, Nigella and I do have at least some things in common, as well as having saggy bits that jiggle on their own as you bend over to the lower drawers of the freezer.  Sorry Nigella, but though you’re exquisitely beautiful I refuse to believe that under those Spanx,  bits of you, like us normal women aren’t jiggling in happy oblivion with a life of their own.  Yes, Spanx...ALL the stars/celebrities wear them.  You have to be slightly deranged to want to your body pulled into a garment so tightly in what feels like a total body bandage, where you’re eventually only managing to breath through your arse!  Or maybe that was only me and my fat body was actually too small for the one I bought?  It wouldn’t be the first time.

Only this week I tried on a nice little ‘fitted’ denim jacket, with size label 16 on the hangar.  I attempted to slide one arm down the first sleeve, only to be met with as much resistance as if I was stuffing a marrow into a condom (don’t know why that should jump into my mind so damn early!). Despite the obvious knowledge that there was no earthly way my fat arm was going to fit into this pencil thin sheath of fabric, I still, even then continued to contort my left arm around my back and attempted to put this one in the other sleeve too!  I stood and looked at my contorted body in the mirror and audibly laughed out loud as I had to call the M&S attendant to prize my body free of the apparel.  It was so ridiculous tight I thought they may have had to cut it off.  She actually sniggered when asking me (whilst I was tending the pressure sores appearing on my delicate skin) if she could get me a larger size?  NO I don’t want a larger size, at this rate I’m going to need a size 30!  ”Perhaps not” she says sweetly, “you’ve tried on a size 10……”  ”are you sure?” I asked, “I don’t remember even seeing that number when I was growing up”……

So, back to Spanx!  Apparently you can visibly appear like you’ve lost one complete dress size.  Of course this concept would be great if the outfit you intend  to fit said fat slob of a body into is a kaftan, because the body bits that aren’t tightly secured are making bids to escape at every mm of light available.  Like stuffing a huge marshmallow into a string bag and then pulling the string bag just a little tighter…..because it tell you to do so on the instruction label!  I’ve now disposed of mine (Spanx, not string bag…I have a warped need for one of those!)  It would have made a great body for a guy on Guy Fawkes night, but I think you’ll have the fight with guy at the local tip for it…..God they’re a strange lot…..

Suck it in baby!

I’m not exactly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the best of hours in the morning, but seemingly waking at roughly the same kind of time every day for the past few months now, and now with zopliclone sleeping tablets in the mix….I’m pretty lethal!  ( I’m a great ‘catch’ really you know….i’m really selling myself now!)

I’m pretty good about the early starts.  Once I’ve dragged my lifeless body bit by bit from my fabulous bed.  I make myself useful, I might wash up a bit. Despite there now being only me, I seem to make so much washing up that I’ve now taken to doing it in relays….or I hide it behind a cloth and wait until some poor soul takes pity on me and does it for me!  Alternatively, I sit and read, knit, crochet, knock up a few jars of jam…..bake bread & on a really good day might bake batch of cakes.  I’ve kept it quiet until now that I’m actually preparing myself for my WI inauguration now that I’m single.  I think I’d be a great asset to them, with many skills to bring to their tables….don’t you think?

I’m also a complete liar.

I tell myself I’m going to research my book (yes its still ongoing) but I don’t.  I throw a load of washing into the machine and am all excited.  The anticipation that my new all singing, dancing, tea making, dish washing, washing machine will deliver my newly clean washing in a state that I shall be able to iron gets me in a quiver….and THAT takes a feat I can tell you. But I lie again.  By now I’m on the 4th cup of tea and have finished not only the muesli, but a packet of fox’s Viennese biscuits. They’re very moorish when you’re watching your washing go round and round, reading a copy of ‘Red’ magazine or the latest Hello or Heat mag.  If I’ve pinched it from the doctor’s surgery that is…I couldn’t possibly been seen buying them!

I have every intention of ironing all said washing.  The dictionary definition of  ’Intent’ states; something you are resolved or determined to do.  I am neither, so I possibly never did have any intention of doing it, and what I really meant to write was that I’ll put it all in a basket, place it by the front door and pick up the phone and dial those lovely people at ‘pressed 4 time’.   They made me SO happy last time I had every intention of doing my ironing.  They also shocked me when they returned it.

It had been ironed beautifully.  Having just moved to ‘The Dolls House’, the basket had sat for so long and I couldn’t stand for long enough to tackle the very large and increasing pile; 4 large (king & superking) duvet covers, sheets, pillowcases plus 3 single complete sets.  Along with all the odd bits that sit at the bottom of your basket that you never get to do because they’re always too dry and creased.   They all came perfectly folded, wrapped in film, and the clothes hung on hangars and covered in plastic clothes covers.  Presentation was superb.  Cost to resume the smile on my face £104.50 !!! The smile was short lived.

I apparently had 23kg of washing and it’s charged per kg.  Not unreasonable, but should there be a next time….note to self, send the feather light bits!  Probable note to self should read ‘GET OFF FAT ARSE AND START IRONING’

On the plus side…My airing cupboard looks absolutely beautiful.  It’s a joy to me.

Aaah, the simple things in life eh….

Bliss....