Posted by: purplediva | July 27, 2011


Domestically Disabled

It’s 3:00 am I’m naked and I’m plotting.  This is not usually a good sign.  The ‘3:00am’ part of the information is the most worrying, because I constantly plot, and am often naked (aided usually by alcohol somewhere) but rarely carry out my missions.  The fact that it’s had me awake at such a god-awful hour is reason enough to be anxious.

It’s the bloody morphine again.  A necessary evil due to immense pain in my legs and now my arms.  A pain enhanced, especially after a ‘eureka’ moment at about 6pm last night.  I decided that I didn’t like the orientation of my bed, and that it would be far better, turned 90 degrees so that I was facing one of my windows.  Of course, the simplest thing would have been to use one of the 3 or 4 tape measures that I have to check that my large brass bed would indeed move into said new position before actually attempting the manoeuvre on my own, unaided.   I decided against a tape measure, because of course, the precision sight of my own eye/brain was going to be far more accurate than the markings on some mere metal measuring device.

After over an hour of painstakingly moving literally everything from my bedroom, with the exception of the bed frame and ceiling rose, I was, excitedly, ready to move my bed into its new place.

I spun it round on the floor, and it was, just too tight to go all the way around.  I then had the bright idea to stand it up on end.  I attempted this too.  The balls of the headboard almost landed in my loft at one point, when the momentum of the weight proved too much for little ol me, oh and I was in danger of breaking my nails….perish the thought!  Feeling frustrated that the bloody thing wouldn’t fit that way either, I put the frame back down, sat on it and looked at both the black marks now gracing my ceiling, and my options, which by now are rather slim….to nil!

Not to be outwitted, my first original manoeuvre I felt had a little more ‘give’ so thought I should try it again.  This time I decided in my wisdom, to lift the bed just over the skirting board.  This may give it the necessary extra room needed.   Upon hearing a loud crack, (one of the legs disappearing through my wall!)


I realised that my precision eye/brain coordination may actually not be as precise as it has been in the past, and that possibly, my ‘eureka’ moment, wasn’t as great as I thought it was, as I was now pondering replacing everything back into their original positions.

I called the long-suffering ‘R’….yes, my ex.  If anyone knew how to do it, he would.  He didn’t.  His advice was priceless “Maybe you should’ve used a tape measure?”  Oh how I larfed!



  1. Does the phrase ‘I hate to say I told you so’ mean anything?

    • Hmmm, no, not as I recall. However, the phrase, ‘wait until I can help you’ rings bells, albeit not loud enough. Because as we know this translates into mush to me as patience isn’t my greatest virtue 😛

      • Love it!! Both the blog and the comments thereafter! Hehehe

  2. Marveless !!

    • Lovely to hear from you Alex! The Crete adventures including stories of the infamous ‘Mr A’ will be online very shortly…….watch this space 😉

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