Wednesday, 25 February 2009

Nowt so queer as Folk

Ouch! My shoulder is aching. I injured myself today.
Before getting together with my fella, eight months ago I'd have quietly gone about my business with my near-dislocated shoulder and not thought too much about it.
But spending an inordinate amount of time with my handsome, great-cook,hypochondriac boyfriend, I've realised I'm turning into a health freak. Well, kind of. So I find myself with a combination of my strained shoulder muscle, my obsession with poor Jade Goody and her tragic turn of fate and a swelling under my arm, and I'm now convinced I am desperately ill.

I have to say, sitting here writing this and smelling my boy cooking us 28 day matured steak and salad (I'm off carbs for a while) perhaps I'm starting to feel a tad better already...

Oh dear, oh dear, which makes me sound more of an ass? " I'm off carbs" or "28 day matured steak"?
It's got to be my use of the word "carbs" right?
It must the the copious amount of Ibuprofen I've taken today that's getting to me. I have a habit of taking what some may think is an unnecessary amounts of over-the -counter painkillers. It's not something I should be doing really, being an
'addict' and all.
The process of me reaching for paracetamol, neurophen (spellcheck!) or codeine based pills when I get a twinge in my little toe is supposedly psychologically damaging.
Next, they say, I could find myself reaching for a bottle of vodka or maybe even a line of cocaine. Who's they? The masses of recovering alcoholics and druggies from NA and AA meetings.
But let's face it - similar to when a cheating lover uses the old chestnut "I was drunk" as their justification for turning your life upside down, it's not as if they slipped and landed on someone's cock or they'd impaled themselves onto a woman by accident, now, is it?

I like to think my use of non-prescription drugs will not end with me uncontrollably guzzling from a bottle against my will. But anything is possible, I suppose, if I don't keep my eye on the ball. The ball or balls, in this case, are my excesses - of which I still have many. For example, I use a bottle of shampoo every week and conditioner. Tubs of moisturiser, toothpaste straight into my mouth from the tube; excess amounts of washing powder for clothes, washing up liquid - then wonder why the sink is over flowing with bubbles. I've been instructed I can only use the dishwasher from now on. More coffee than is healthy - and I still manage to sleep like a cat. How I live my life is something I often have to curb because if I like something even for no obvious reason, I do it, and do it, and do it... As my Aunt Flo used to say to me 'Nowt so queer as folk.' Aye! I'll drink to that... juice, of course.