Is this the end?
That was another eventful week.
The bug that reared its ugly head is still going strong. Apart from general aches, its main mode of attack is a cough. And what a cough! Every now and them, I attempt to eject my lungs out my mouth with a fit of hacking and each cough produces a sharp headache. Fucking annoying. I have however discovered if not a cure then at least a way of quietening the cough – whiskey. Take a large dose as required and repeat.
Herself has a monthly script for medication which includes 200 Paracetamol. I don’t know why and she never uses them so we are swimming in the damned things. They’re coming in handy now though.
My attempts at genocide seem to have worked. I haven’t seen a mouse now in 36 or so hours. I lost count in the end but I think I slaughtered 16 or 17 of the little buggers. That count doesn’t include the unborn. I’m being deliberately vague about the numbers as I don’t want them to quote me at my War Crimes Tribunal in The Hague.
There was one event last week which quite frankly still has me in shock.
A couple of weeks ago I made an appointment for an “engineer” to call. The woman who made the appointment couldn’t have sounded less interested if she tried, but she muttered something about Friday the 17th after midday. Yea. Right. Am I going to hold my breath?
Last week herself wanted a different job done in the bathroom. I phoned the bloke who had installed our bathroom some ten or fifteen years ago. He said he’d call out on Friday between midday and two. Haha.
Yesterday arrived as days tend to if you wait long enough. At midday my phone rang. It was the “engineer” calling from out in the lane wanting to know if he was at the right house. Fuck me! This was unheard of. Anyone who has lived in Ireland must know that if someone makes an appointment you’re lucky if they turn up in the right week, let alone the right day and forget about the hour. Anyway Yer Man had broken all the rules and had arrived bang on time.
After he left I was sitting here in a daze wondering at the miracle that had just happened when there was a knock on the door beside me, making me jump. It was the bloke about the bathroom. It was one of the clock. He was bang on time!
This was not a miracle. It was way beyond that. This was unprecedented in the annals of Irish history. It’s about as likely to happen as a simultaneous Solar and Lunar Eclipse, but it had happened. It is a cataclysmic event which even Nostradamus failed to predict
I’m still in shock.
We really must be in the End of Days.
Just be glad of small miracles?