REVELATION, RESOLUTION, REVOLUTION.
It was one of those revelatory moments.....
Yesterday afternoon I was sitting at the kitchen table with one eye on the resolutions, (a cup of mint tea and the book 'Easy Way to Stop Smoking', which strangely I am reading at less than my usual book-devouring speed) and the other eye on three ongoing instant message conversations, when the doorbell rang. Actually it didn't just ring, it rang continuously in that ominous urgent type of way, which makes one immediately want to head for the cigarette packet (although in my defence I'm not even halfway through the book yet....)
Mrs N. stood outside clutching a hand to a bandaged face and waving the other one dramatically around 'you have to come round and look after me' she wailed. This clearly wasn't really a 'sorry I'm busy' moment, so I followed the staggering/wailing figure next door.
The back story, it seems, was that Mrs N had had a minor operation that morning and Mr N had gone out to get the prescriptions. 'I can't be on my own' she cried.
'You should have sent me out for the prescription' I suggested, through gritted teeth.
Never ever have I come across such a bad patient. She was wandering around the flat, one hand on face, screaming dramatically 'oh it's awful its awful'.
'Errr why don't you lie down?'
'There's so much to doooooooo'.
'Like what?' I so should not have uttered those words...
So for the next half hour I was putting flowers in vases (and being yelled at for picking the wrong vases and not cutting the stems correctly), taking her blood pressure (which unlike mine by that point, was perfectly normal) and being shouted at for the strap being too tight on her arm, making tea (you can just imagine how many things I got wrong there), giving her pain killers (and being accused of giving her the wrong ones and poisoning her) and cleaning up dog/pig excrement off the floor, because said dog-pig was also (understandably) completely traumatised by all the noise and drama.
It was whilst kneeling on the floor cleaning up this mess, with the dog/pig jumping all over me and Mrs N screaming that I was staining the carpet, that I had the revelation. And indeed the resolution.
I thought 'I have to get a job, and that way I will hardly ever be in the apartment'.
So. Finally on Jan 5th we have resolutions.
1. STOP SMOKING
2. As soon as I've recovered from MY op (after which I will NOT be ringing any bells on my corridor) - GET JOB.
Yesterday afternoon I was sitting at the kitchen table with one eye on the resolutions, (a cup of mint tea and the book 'Easy Way to Stop Smoking', which strangely I am reading at less than my usual book-devouring speed) and the other eye on three ongoing instant message conversations, when the doorbell rang. Actually it didn't just ring, it rang continuously in that ominous urgent type of way, which makes one immediately want to head for the cigarette packet (although in my defence I'm not even halfway through the book yet....)
Mrs N. stood outside clutching a hand to a bandaged face and waving the other one dramatically around 'you have to come round and look after me' she wailed. This clearly wasn't really a 'sorry I'm busy' moment, so I followed the staggering/wailing figure next door.
The back story, it seems, was that Mrs N had had a minor operation that morning and Mr N had gone out to get the prescriptions. 'I can't be on my own' she cried.
'You should have sent me out for the prescription' I suggested, through gritted teeth.
Never ever have I come across such a bad patient. She was wandering around the flat, one hand on face, screaming dramatically 'oh it's awful its awful'.
'Errr why don't you lie down?'
'There's so much to doooooooo'.
'Like what?' I so should not have uttered those words...
So for the next half hour I was putting flowers in vases (and being yelled at for picking the wrong vases and not cutting the stems correctly), taking her blood pressure (which unlike mine by that point, was perfectly normal) and being shouted at for the strap being too tight on her arm, making tea (you can just imagine how many things I got wrong there), giving her pain killers (and being accused of giving her the wrong ones and poisoning her) and cleaning up dog/pig excrement off the floor, because said dog-pig was also (understandably) completely traumatised by all the noise and drama.
It was whilst kneeling on the floor cleaning up this mess, with the dog/pig jumping all over me and Mrs N screaming that I was staining the carpet, that I had the revelation. And indeed the resolution.
I thought 'I have to get a job, and that way I will hardly ever be in the apartment'.
So. Finally on Jan 5th we have resolutions.
1. STOP SMOKING
2. As soon as I've recovered from MY op (after which I will NOT be ringing any bells on my corridor) - GET JOB.
posted by jazzshark at 9:26 AM
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