Quiet musings… day #4

What my back is: Better. I can sleep easy now, and wake up refreshed.

What I like to do to the cat: Rub her side until she leans her whole weight against my hand and then take it away quickly so she falls over. You might think me cruel but I find it funny, and she still purrs and lovingly buries her face into my hand when she stands back up.

What I wonder: If people know that cinquecento means 500 in Italian, and that Fiat never stopped producing the 500 – they just re-branded it, despite the media hoo-ha.

What I want to say to the driver in front of me: Allow me to explain something to you: it is your responsibility, when using the slip road, to match the speed of the traffic of the road you are joining; it may involve changing gear, or pressing down slightly on the accelerator pedal, or even easing off it if you’ve come up fast and overcooked it. You must use your awareness of velocity and space to select the gap in which your vehicle will fit, and join the traffic on the dual carriageway in a safe manner; what it does not involve is doing an emergency stop directly in front of me because you haven’t got your shit together and you’ve had a mini panic attack about it. Please calm yourself, engage first gear and move on your way; thus, allowing me to move on mine.

What my boss does at work: Tells us a story. He is brilliant at telling stories, his words are entrancing when he speaks them. I think he will make a great grandfather. But he has not lived through a war and will only tell joyous stories.

What the postman leaves me in the postbox before the paperboy stuffs the paper into it so violently that he breaks the lid: A letter from the neurology department at the hospital.

What the neurologist says: We have received your referral, you are on our waiting list; now wait.

What we do every time the cats lick the inside of their hind legs putting the other leg straight up in the air so they look like they are saluting: Laugh. We say they’re in the secret cats’ club and we salute them back by holding one arm straight up in the air and cupping our fingers together and saying ‘secret cats’ club’.

What Robyn says: I’m not the girl you’re taking home.

What I think she sounds like she says: I’m not the guy you’re taking home. It could be so, I argue, she is rather androgynous.

What happens when I reach into the cupboard under the sink to get something out: The small rubberised torch gets knocked out onto the floor and I have to check it to see if it still works, then put it back in exactly the same place on the front edge of the shelf.

How many times the torch has been knocked out of the cupboard: 11

JP Collins


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