I hate daylight savings. It takes me weeks to acclimatise and I'm still finding clocks I haven't changed yet. Anyway how can we save any daylight when I've hardly seen the sun and now they're forecasting rain, thunder, cold and storms. I blame politicians. Was Mr. Abbott standing in a drain at the weekend, when he was standing next to our Ted? Surely he can't be that short but he did look as though he only came up to Ted's navel.
I am now going to have a complain, besides the complain I already had and the one after this.
Southland, nice shopping centre, bloody awful toilets. Doc Marvin said not to take the diuretic pills if I was going out, brilliant, the effects last two days. So, should have used the wheelchair toilet on level 3, I'm allowed I have scars to prove my knees aren't co-operative. Second level and I really know I'm not going to make it back up the escalator. I know I've put on weight but someone has also zapped the size of toilets down from human to small primate. By the time I hang shopping bags and my bag on the hook on the back of the door after I managed to shave off 3 kgs getting it shut, get my knickers down after tucking dress under chin, backing up to the miniscule dunny, I was in trouble. Not only did I forget to up the seat but I didn't back up far enough. Noise, there's a noise. Great bladder control now as I hold the horses! Back up a bit more, release, relief. Now get out the anti-septic wipes and wipe out the shoe, the foot, the leg, the seat, the floor and 20 minutes later, shave off another 3 kgs as I drag myself out the door.
I would complain to the management but everyone knows that fat people are killing the earth so why worry if one pees in their shoe. Skinny mongrels.
Can I haz another complain?
Mother, complain. Forgetting to ask for her pain control again. She is on enough to knock out Black Cavier but any breakthrough pain means she needs extra for a few days. She's been in pain since last Wednesday. I checked on Saturday and she wasn't in the book for extra pills. So still on normal daylight I get up on a Monday morning to go down there. I'm not ready for the Home on Monday, I go Tuesday and I certainly wasn't ready for the sight of Annie Joyce with stitches, black eye and busted knee and her mouth shut for a change. I swear that woman's voice would cut ice. She fell out of bed Sunday night, bled everywhere and got carted off to hospital. Yes, sorry, poor old dear, I'm devastated. My mother says to be nice, I'll be old one day. Hell, woman haven't you noticed, I am older and getter older by the minute.
Ignoring moans from the other side of the room, I get out my illegal white cheesymite roll from Bakers Delight and a bottle Nestea (hope they're reading this I could do with a case) take one yummy bite when Annie Joyce decides to upchuck. No one has put her bell within reach, Ma's bell is not within reach so I had to belt down the hall and grab a nurse. Really took the shine off the cheesymite roll but I soldiered on. Second gallop down the hall was for her other end. Nurse made that in good time.
Thank you to the spammer who offered to up my comments to 4000 a day. You're a real gem.
Thanks to the fourth cold caller about my telephone discount yesterday. I hope your hearing comes back soon.
Thank you to Miss O'Dyne for her suggestion that I turn my experiences into a TV show. It's a good idea, I'd probably piss myself laughing reliving it all.