You know what wrecks my brain? Women who lie about how dirty their house is. When I’m trying to organise a play date and use my messy house as an excuse (I do this weekly) and they argue theirs is worse and “Jesus, don’t worry, sure mine’s desperate too!” LIARS! I generally give in and allow their children to further dismantle my property, then when I drop them home I walk into a CIF scented haven of immaculate floors and buffed worktops. I use their bathroom to discover neatly hung towels and pee free toilet seats. B*****d’s! You know how they keep their homes like that? By telling me lies, farming their kids out to eejits like me and cleaning while they’re gone. So here’s what I mean when I tell people I need to catch up on the housework:
-The dog has potentially left a shite somewhere and I need to go on the hunt.
-At best my bathroom towels have been used by my kids to wipe shower water off their person and can be found on the bathroom floor. At worst my son will have missed the mark and used it to mop up his pee so he won’t have to walk in it on his next trip to the bathroom and the pissy towel can be found thrown in the hall.
-I bought some of the items in my fridge when Obama was still president. The cupboard boasts jars that have resided there since the Bush administration.
– My bedside locker only gets cleared of furry glasses of stagnated water when I either have visitors or I’m trying to impress my husband because I’ve gone to town on his PayPal account or I got greedy on littlewoods.
-I haven’t ironed since summer 2005. Childbirth marked the end of my relationship with linen and cotton. I won’t buy clothes you need to iron and my husband’s shirts stay wrinkled. I have permanent creases on my stomach because I bred heirs for him. He can wear wrinkly shirts.
-Cobwebs don’t concern me. If I could get to grips with the dirt at ground level I’d be delighted with myself. My kids will have graduated college by the time I get around to the ceiling.
-3 weeks ago my uncle drilled a hole in the wall for a bathroom vent, covering the room in a thick layer of brick powder. Did I clean it? Nah. I just blow a cloud of cement dust off my shampoos and make- up compacts as I use them.
-We currently have a full sized bath, panels, shower screen, sink, taps and toilet in my entrance hallway. I’ll be sorry when it’s all fitted because I won’t be able to justify the piles of shoes, weekend bags I’m going to sort out “tomorrow”, abandoned art and craft projects (half mosaiced vases and rag rugs that were going to sell for millions at exhibition),piles of wedding ceremony pamphlets for couples who are probably divorced by now, dog leads, etc. Up to now I’ve been excusing it with “Sorry you have to step over stuff…we’re a building site at the moment”. I may have to be honest and say, “Sorry, I’m a dirty bitch and my kids are property abusers…would you mind signing an e-coli disclaimer before you leave your kids here? Thanks” Fukushima power plant would probably be more appropriate.
Women who lie about the state of their houses are the same head melters who rocked up at college exams clearly knowing the course books cover to cover but claimed to be just as screwed as the rest of us who had only browsed the chapter conclusions ten minutes before leaving the house. You can’t have it all people! You can’t fake being a dirty time waster just to look cool. Being a loser is something you’ve got to earn…through years of poor hygiene, horrendous time keeping and repeated failure! Stay over there on your soap boxes.
Now that I’ve vented some of my insecurity….The theatre was superb darling! We opted for a supper deal so I got two tickets, two portions of tapas and a show for €37. You can’t say fairer than that. The CAT was an amazing venue for the play and the lady playing Janey Dillis was class . I did experience a little awkward moment upon leaving the auditorium. I spotted a sound engineer who toured with us this year and went over to say hello. He is rehearsing for a play which is also being staged in the CAT in late October and his director had called me yesterday to arrange a photo shoot for tomorrow. This man is very quiet and reserved and I think I kind of scare him. He has deflected my hugs on more than one occasion and he gets a very frantic look in his eyes when I approacb but I always make a bee line for him when I see him because…Godammit, I’m going to force him to be my pal! If I have to lock him in my garage for a week to talk him through the reasons why I’m actually delightful and not in the slightest bit creepy, by God I might!…I digress….So this time I walk over to him, he pretends not to see my open armed invitation and I say, “I’m going to take photographs of you on Sunday”. The look of shock, discomfort and anxiety in his eyes suggested he hadn’t got the heads up about rehearsal plans and assumed I was taking my creepiness to the next level and was just going to wait in the bushes with my zoom lens. I had to just leave it like that because my mum was hissing at me to hurry up before the pubs closed. He’s probably in hiding somewhere now.
Yesterday was a good diet day. Kicked off with GF cereal and oat milk with some berries on top. Lunch was a slimming world egg wrap with spinach, bacon medallions, roast sweet potato and pumpkin seeds. The CAT club do tons of GF and DF options on their supper theatre menu so I had a bit of a pig out before the show. I didn’t think I had much to drink but I did wake up with a furry mouth so I think my calculations got a bit warped after the third glass of plonk.
Off for afternoon tea with the meaty nanny now! Happy Saturday all!