Friday 10:51 p.m.
I'm over the best of it; I'm over the worst of it. I thought I was going to be able to do just what I wanted to do, and have all these oceans of time to myself, Even then, I'm a total disgrace. But although I cannot do what I want to do because I have relatives, well, they give you presents on your birthday. Great things. Gardening gloves. Sporty. When I wear them anyway. And some seed potatoes. You need them. Right now I'm back here at the junkyard, and I think that could be what men are supposed to do. Decorate. What? Moi? Certainly not. As long as there are no rats.
Tomorrow I've got to get my arse up to Liberton Hospital to visit with our friend with the MS. For occasions such as this and visiting the auld maw one should try to be at one's best. But it's a lot of disability. But only for me to look at. Don't look so good from their side either, I don't suppose. Well, it says to me that the drinking has to stop completely .... Oh no! Boxing. Di Niro. Must go.
3 comments:
As a 'disabled' person I can tell you that it doesn't look better from this side. You just have fewer choices about dealing with it.
Sounds like you did well for your birthday.
If spring ever comes I'm looking forward to doing some planting.
Marie! Spring is practically here! I could do some digging if I wanted to. Hotboy
I don't mind visiting hospitals, in fact I like it. The hard part is trying to think of something to say to the patient. Not a problem for you of course. It all balances up.
PS What's wrong with rats?
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