Friendship

My daughter was at a festival all weekend with her boyfriend. I was home alone all weekend. By Saturday I was scrolling through my mobile phone contacts looking for some company. I ended up deleting three quarters of the numbers, they were either old work mates I hadn't heard from for years, disasterous dates or old mates who had let me down. My old mucker Tony McNamara being one of them, since he ran off with my Ex, and Duncan Blackhorn who did me out of a few thousand quid pretending to be an online lovely who needed money. I also deleted my Ex, I can't believe she was still on there seeing as we split a good few years ago but I think I kept her number to hand to forewarn me not to answer the phone to a barrage of insults. So after a mass cull I was left with several take away numbers and just a handful of people. My windy, posh friend Piers, my daughter and my recent ex-girlfriend Meryl who still calls me from time to time out of guilt. Next thing you know I'll be blowing up balloons, drawing faces on them and pretending I've got a few mates round. Something tells me I need to widen my circle of friends

Bubble

My local community centre has started up an early morning Bend and Snap class. I've not been sleeping properly of late so instead of staring at my bedroom ceiling I thought I'd use the opportunity to get in shape. At a sprightly 6am I don my loose fit tracksuit bottoms and t-shirt and head down for some energising stretches and sun salutations. Surprisingly it's rather busy in the morning, mainly with older folk. My Dad keeps reminding me the older one gets the less they need to sleep. I hope this isn't true as I quite like a lie in now and again and a life with out snuggling back down under the covers must be a miserable one. It's one of my small pleasures! That and sardine toasties.
So we woke ourselves up with a combination of stretches, hand claps and tai chi. Very relaxing. So much so I left the class on another planet and headed to work in a blissful haze. I circulated about the office in a bubble of contentment all morning until I was caught totally unaware and shredded my Team Leader's agenda for her next meeting. To say she wasn't happy is perhaps an understatement and I was soon brought back down to earth with an angry exchange in the photocopy room. When I tried to explain the benefits a morning exercise class could bring to her day I thought she was about to spontaneously combust and promptly made a hasty exit to the coffee room. Some people just don't know how to look after their health.

Zombie

I stumbled around the office this morning like a drunken zombie, spilling the Team's morning tea and generally fudging everything I came into contact with. Now I don't know about you but I am shocking when I haven't had my full eight hour quota of sleep. When I worked the late shift at Portland Hospital Radio I was able to counteract sleep deprivation with a power nap before I went on air. Since the demise of my show - more about that another time - I have been able to reset my body clock back to normal. That was until the early hours of this morning. I awoke to the sound of shuffling at my front door, then what sounded like letters being delivered. Thinking we had an over eager postman I turned over and snuggled back down. But the sound continued beyond what is normal for a morning postal delivery, it went on for a full five minutes. Shuffle, shuffle, drop, drop. I reached for my watch, 4.45am, not the hour of the postman. He generally stops by a good six hours later than that. Feeling slightly unsettled I pulled on my dressing gown and went to investigate. Creeping out of my bedroom and glancing into my hall I saw the evidence. Lying on the carpet was a crushed boxes of herb teas, old newspapers and Christmas cards I'd only just got round to throwing out. A strange someone had been posting my recycling back through my letterbox. I wonder who it could be?

Back like a Bad Smell

After a rather unsavoury incident involving an overly amorous pensioner my daughter has stopped cleaning windows in her swimwear. Thank god! To tide her over she has taken part time work at a cafe in town. By some strange twist of fate who should stop by for malted coffee? It was She of the Acid Tongue aka my Ex or the woman my daughter calls 'mum'. You may think it is nothing out of the ordinary but let me tell you that woman only calls on my lovely girl if there is money to be requested or an insult to be slung in my direction. And today was no exception. After teary plea for money she then went onto verbally assassinate me stopping only to knock back the sugary dregs of her coffee cup. How do I know that finer detail? Because my daughter used the gap in her mother's terrible tirade to escape to the kitchen. I fear this may not be the last we hear from that awful woman.