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A Day in the Life of the woman THINGS happen to… 26, June 2007

Posted by babychaos in Adult Content, General Wittering, Humour, Life and living, Light Fluff, Play, whinging, winging.
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First up, apologies University Update readers, I only mention cholestorol once and in passing.

Well this month was another minger for PMT. I was dizzy, breathless, tired, sick – yes, in the mornings – and constantly hungry but on the up side, very happy. I did wonder if it was a bit more than PMT but I did a pregnancy test which was negative, not, of course, that any of them guarantee much before your period is due.

I was supposed to be taking part in a medical experiment this morning, basically they give you a free health check, cholesterol test, thyroid, blood tests, glucose test, fitness test… they tell you how much fat to muscle your body contains… etc etc. I’ve thought of doing something like this for some time because my weight is way over the body mass index chart thing for my height and since I don’t seem to be able to do anything about it, other than make sure I stay reasonably fit, I thought it might be good to check up on the things which might be affected by my excess lard.

However, you’re not supposed to do the test if you’re pregnant which, taking the particularly bad PMT into account, I thought I might have been. So I rang them yesterday, explained the situation and they said better safe than sorry and put it off. So this morning, when I woke up and took my temperature it was back down to 36.28 so I knew a visit from the painters was imminent. Damn! I should have gone for the tests then, especially as, here at home, a visit from the plumber was imminent, too.

Further investigation showed that the painters had, indeed, arrived and I was on the blob. So I went down to the kitchen to retrieve my black underwear from where it was airing and a pair of trousers. As I stood by the washing machine in my trousers and bra there was a timid knock at the door. Thanking the lord, in his bounty, for not putting me near a window I quickly pulled my pyjama top over my bra – had to because selecting a shirt from the airing mound would involve walking across in front of the window.

Phew, half dressed then, I welcome the plumber, who, even for a workman, is early – it’s 8 o’clock.

I offer him a cup of tea, which he gratefully accepts and escort him upstairs to the bathroom. Luckily I have time to fill both the sinks in the kitchen before he turns the water off, that’s good because I need to wash my hair. I hastily pull on a shirt while he is out of the way and do so. I realise I haven’t drunk enough coffee for what my friend calls “motility” and that now I will have to face that, as well as anything “the painters” produce after he turns the water off, ie, with no flush. Bugger!

After a short time he comes down to the kitchen with the basin, I open the door for him. We are called to look at the tiling behind. The new basin will not be against the wall so we need to tile over the hole. The hole in question is deeper than the tiles we have as the last lot covered over the previous set with the new instead of removing them first. Never mind, we have some old white tiles in the barn Mr BC tells him cheerily. Mr BC is very busy with work at the moment so I suggest I go and look for them. He is clearly grateful and tells me where he thinks they are, so off I go.

I find one lot but they are wrong, used and too thick. I know we have some thin ones so I start to go through a pile of boxes we have been meaning to go through for about 2 years. They contain not white china, as I thought, but old videos. I find a mouse’s nest in the cushions for one of our loungers and a manky old blanket with holes eaten in it. I also find two union jacks bought by a friend of the family for the coronation of Elizabeth II. They are a bit knackered but at least the mice have left them alone. I rescue them. I am able to stack the boxes more tidily than before, making more room although I throw the blanket into a bin liner.

Great, I am going to spend the afternoon with five ladies with babies and I am now covered in mouse wee with no chance of washing it off. Mmm… Free dose of Weil’s disease with every cuddle.

I throw the blanket away and go to report my blank on the tiles front. Never mind, at least everything is tidy now. Mr BC goes and find the tiles we were both thinking about, immediately. Bugger. I take off my mouse-wee covered top and throw it on the washing pile. I wash my hands in the basin of water I’d used to wash my hair and change my second Mouse Wee, a.k.a. Weil’s disease infested top too. Both are replaced with something clean but less appropriate. I also grab a moment or two to dry my hair. Luckily I washed my gymn towel so it’s there with the airing washing rather than with all the other towels – and the plumber – in the bathroom.

Finally I make myself some toast, finish my coffee and head off to my office, to do some work. No sooner have I sat down when I realise I need to have a big pooh. We have two loos but one – if it’s still plumbed in, that is – is in the bathroom with the plumber. The other is downstairs and has one tank full of flush but, since the water is turned off, no more. Can I really do a huge pooh in it? What if Mr BC wants to do one, too? There’ll be no flush left for him or  I will have to leave it. Er… no. However mellow it is for yellow it’s definitely down for brown.

Never mind!  I remember that I live in the middle of a cathedral city with award-winning public loos.  Phew!  So, I saunter off to find one.

Except that one of the many lovely effects of the blob is a monthly dose of Delhi Belly. So while running is not something I can do with confidence I walk as briskly – and hopefully as normally – as a person frantically clenching their buttocks can to the closest set, about 200 yards away in a nearby car park. I do what I have to do, thanking my lucky stars that I have these splendid, sparkling clean amenities here, close by which wouldn’t be available if I lived elsewhere. I’m going out this afternoon so at least the painter’s excesses can be disposed of down a flushing bog and with any luck by the time I return the plumber will have finished and the water will be back on…

Thinking about it, I could have saved myself a lot of hassle. If I’d worked out when the blob was due and realised it coincided with the arrival of the plumber I would have known I couldn’t possibly be pregnant this month, sod’s law just wouldn’t give me that kind of leeway.

Make no mistake, I want a baby but I also know the first thing that pops into my mind, if I ever do get pregnant will be. “Brilliant! Almost a whole year without a period!”

AND I have a sodding stomach ache.

So what does this prove? It proves that when a workman has to come to your home, no matter how far in advance you arrange it or how carefully you plan, they will always arrive at the most inconvenient time. Even if you have planned it to minimise the disruption, something will happen to make it inconvenient, like the blob.

So today’s piece of sage advice for life is this.

Don’t plan.

Be aware of what might happen and make sure you have anything you might need but don’t plan per se, just fly by the seat of your pants because no matter how minutely you do plan that’s what you’ll end up having to do.

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Comments»

1. Joe Drinker - 26, June 2007

Wow. THINGS indeed. Stresses me out just reading about it!

Hope the rest of the day went more smoothly.

Cheers,

JD

2. Mrs. Nicklebee - 27, June 2007

In other words, “Plan for the worst and hope for the best.” Plumbing is my least favorite issue to deal with. I will invariably develop digestive distress the day the water needs to be turned off. And we don’t live within walking-while-clenching distance of any public “facilities”.

Did the plumber get finished before you got home?

3. babychaos - 27, June 2007

Thanks JD, yes it did, Mrs N – laughed as I so hear you on the ‘digestive distress’ issue – sadly he wasn’t finished but he seems to be cracking on nicely today and is cautiously optimistic he will be finished by lunch time.

Cheers

BC


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