A proliferation of poxy P’s

Jaysus.

So far, and with great effort of will, I have avoided writing one of those  painful posts  apologising for not posting more often.  Ohh the alliteration.

And I’m not about to start now.

But if my idyllic vision of the future is anything to go by, and its not, then I’ll soon be the most prolific poster of pointless pontification this side of the pacific, which is nowhere near here.

As of March 1st, I’ll be a full time housewife. House-husband somehow manages to sound pretty gay, so housewife it is. Don’t say it to my face though cos I’m a ninja killer type and may just decide to assassinate your ass on the spot in a fit of humourlessness.

And that deadline (March 1st) piles the pressure on, pertaining to  the completion of the Harolds Cross Gym. A P too far? maybe, but that’s how I walk the walk brother; on the livid keening edge of edginess.

But to the point: In my imagination, this housewife lark is a breeze and thanks to the miracle of t.v. and my learned ability to ignore everything that’s happening around me at any given time, I’ll be swanning about for HUGE chunks of the day entertaining myself with blogs and surprise nappy changes.

And as for aforementioned said referred-to previous, the gym that is, well it’s going, but it’s going slow.
Had the brother out on the weekend doing some woodworky magic with his marvellous array of sharp objects and obsessive attention to detail ( seriously, who measures to a third of a millimetre?), and his missus painting for all she was worth.

Then today I got my poor auld dear auld retired Da out of his slippers and cobwebs and got him painting more walls. Good for the joints apparently, or so I told him.

Also put up the completely incomplete site, just to get something sort of started. Trouble is though, money’s getting tight and there’s a shitload more to do and pay for.

I dont worry about nuthin, no, cos worry’s a waste of my time.

And also because, due to  my famous memory frailties, I forget what it is I’m worried about after about a minute or so.

what?

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