On feeling a bit crotchety July 29, 2007
Posted by Jen in : Domestic Doings, Journal , 15 comments
Hey diddly dee, a kitchen of widdle for me…
Ahem. I have a few concerns, Doctor. Let me explain:
Now that I am officially non-working, my self-imposed confinement and daily doings of all things domestically un-goddesslike are possibly not going to provide the stimulation I require to become a sort-of writer. Today’s examples:
I get up early to write. Discover my very own Windermere in the kitchen, created by stinking hound. Swear a bit. Drink tea to make eyes open. Think that I have been up for 40 minutes but still not written any words but am too busy thinking up swear words and mean thoughts about the dog. Clean up puddle of piddle. Feel peckish. Consider whether to have toasted muffin with sardines (fishy fun to fend off mental incapacity) or croissant (happiness inducing and bloody well deserved after aforementioned wee-based mopping but a bit fattening). Eat muffin with squashed fish. Then eat two croissants with kids. Feel fat and consider that I may have to go on Jonathon Ross instead of Porky Parky when I am a bestselling novelist as he has a big settee that will accommodate my mysteriously-increasing arse. Think that getting wedged into Parky’s chrome and leather chair and having to be winched out by firemen will not be a good start to my life as a glam but rather slightly lardy writer.
Hardly sparkling, is it? The kitchen floor is though. Perhaps I will write about that… no? Really??
