In a world before her accident, when all she had to worry about was the prospect of snow on the ground and the annual trek to work, the missus wrote this column for Gscene. It made me laugh then. It makes my laugh now. Enjoy Queenie at her camp finest as she ponders her new Years resolutions. Little did we know she should of vowed to spend less time in hospital, eat more chocolate, do painful arm and elbow exercises on the hour every hour and become besties with Tramadol (other painkillers are available, – Jo should know – she’s tried them all this month). Anyway here’s my Queenie. Long may she reign.
Well then, somewhat unbelievably another bloody year has gone by and what do you know. I’m still ‘a smoker’, I’m still ‘a drinker’ and I’m still ‘a West Ham fan’. But never mind, this month is apparently going to be the coldest and snowiest since time immemorial so rather than feel all January-ish about it I’ve decided it’s time to embrace a put-an-end-to-all-the-procrustination-towards-jobs-I-don’t-feel-like-doing-because-I’m-always-too-busy-philosophy.
The last time the weather went wrong our street became an impassable Alp, what with it being off the top of Elm Grove (or should I say Matterhorn) and therefore not worthy of gritting. And despite a friend saying anybody who didn’t want to get in their cars and ‘have a go’ should ‘man up’, the fact that the entire end of our road was presided over by 3 snowmen across both lanes and even the four-by-four owned by next door was marooned in a drift meant that no amount of testosterone fuelled thought could get my car keys a jangling. So walking to work was the only option. 3 miles there, taking about an hour. This impasse lasted for three days, so six hours of walking over those three days (maths = my strong point) was the result. The first day was ok, a novelty even. The second a bit irritating. The third and I never wanted to put on wellies again. But I reckon I missed a trick as I could’ve used those wandering hours to decide what I could be doing when back at home and not chained to the idea of going out either in a car or by taxi……
So, this January I will possibly have a whole month of striding to my toil. And the rest of the time I’ll be at home doing these things.
- Sorting out the cupboard of death. I’m sure you’ve got one of those, either big or small. Ours is big enough to walk in and it’s where the Dyson lives along with the ironing board, plus toolbox, sewing kit and then about a million half-bottles/cans/tubs of various items of Substances Hazardous To Health. And I’m not talking bottles of vodka though I hear meths is a reasonable substitute. This cupboard is fucking dangerous man. Plus it’s a complete disaster area with stuff piled on top of stuff, and certainly no room to walk into. I will sort this all out, yes I will.
- I’ll redecorate the entire house using all the leftover paint cleared out of the cupboard of death.
- I’ll re-learn how to use the Dyson, the iron and how to sew.
- I’ll drink anything left over from the clear out, and if that doesn’t seem appropriate I’ll smoke it.
- I’ll put a bed in the cupboard and rent it out in February.
There now. I’ve worked out how to get through the whole of 2014’s first glorious month productively. Let’s just hope the weather’s crap enough for this to all actually happen. I’ll be really pissed off if the predicted ice-age doesn’t happen and I remain, procrastinating behind the wheel of my unfrozen Ford Fiesta.
Happy New Year y’all. QJ xx