D - Entry for 03/08/18

Monday, August 18, 2003
23 +3.

Today I have only eaten a handful of pick 'n' mix and a few Ryvitas.
Good Baby Bear.

Today I am feeling tired. Baby Bears aren't much use when they are
tired and I have been deprived from any sex whatsoever for the last
three weeks. Not surprising seeing as I look like a beached whale in a
smock but believe me, you would be grumpy too.

It's been a busy old weekend. I woke up this morning and my very first
thought was "Oh it's ok, it's Sunday, I still have one more day?" then
I realised it was actually Monday and it's at least 5 more days before
I get another lie in. This tends to make you feel pretty unenthusiastic
about sitting in an office for 8 hours.

The three highlights of the weekend are as follow:

Seeing Bear's bandages come off after the operation
Ok, in all fairness I think I was perhaps being a bit blas? about this
whole leg removal thing. Yes, it was a big operation. Yes, it was
serious. And the wounds are pretty gruesome. It looks like he pissed
off a knife wielding maniac ?. Then tried to rectify the wounds with a
staple gun.

Anyway, all being well he should be home in a few days? I did think
about buying a huge "acne" style magnet and hanging it from the kitchen
ceiling to see the comedy effect but I guess that would just be
mean.

Puzzling text message from Psycho father
It said something like "Emma told us what you said. I won't bother you
in future. Your as bad as that idiot you live with."

What???? WHAT?! I have no idea what this is about. As much as the
thought as my father repulses me, I have certainly said nothing about
him to anyone in weeks. In fact the only thing a said to my sister
about the whole rift between herself and psycho daddy is that she
welcome to use my sofa to get her head down but I don't want any
involvement with the row whatsoever. Mind you I suppose she's sorted
out her differences with him so that's good. And seeing as the only
person I live with these days is the dog (who is indeed a complete
idiot) I don't what I could have possibly done to make myself
comparable.

Bear's brother's point of view on dentistry and my offspring.

In 17 days I have a appointment with Dr Zarburg-Zeti (or something like
that). This is the first dental work I will have had in about 4 years.
Not because I have great sparkling teeth but because the thought of
some masked bloke with a drill in his hand gives sends pure fear though
my bones.

Drew recommended that I should take Sprog to the dentist the day it's
born, so s/he's not scared

Dentist "But this infant has no teeth"
Me "Can't you just do something?"
Dentist "Like what?"
Me "Give her some mouth wash"

Drew also he steals people's names and writes them in a little leather
bound notebook he keeps in his pocket He is also planning to buy a dog
and make it live in a shed. On Saturday Drew was struck firmly off the
"Possible list of people to volunteer for sprog-sitting duties".

Due to a general lack of time to do anything I decided to take
advantage of the local Asda's 24 hour opening hours. At 11pm, on a
Friday night when normal people are out on the razzle, I foolishly
thought that it would be a serene time to do the weekly food shop, free
from granny bashing and screaming children in the aisles.

How wrong I was.

Not only had I arrived at prime shelf restocking time, but I think
everyone had the same idea?but were tired and ratty because they either
want to be out with their mates or like, myself in bed.

Why do they always stock the things are likely to get crushed at the
beginning of the supermarket, thus ending up at the bottom of your
trolley and the heavy stuff at the end like the booze? Is this super
market psychology, suggesting that by the time you get to the end of
the retail nightmare you are gagging for a drink?

But of course the booze aisle was closed by the time I got
there?.

I get home finally, loaded up the fridge with purchased chocolate and
instant meals.

The dog has this habit of opening the fridge when you are not looking
and helping himself to the entire contents. I kid you not, he's like
the canine version of Garfield. I had recently broken the fridge lock
and had not got round to fixing it and was getting fed up of finding
margarine smudged into the carpet.

So I stupidly went at the lock with the super glue and managed to glue
my arm to the fridge door.

Oooh Bear, come home soon.

BB xx