Drunk

We have had a trying day.

Then we thought that perhap[s we might have a night off.

Now I am drunk.

We should have gone to work because of not having any money. We didn’t do this because we got up early to do important things that needed doing and so by six o’ clock this evening we just didn’t want to go and sit on a cold dark taxi rank. We wanted to stay in our lovely warm house and have a glass of wine and a snooze.

The problem then was tghat6 neither of us had eaten anything all day, and after two glasses of win e we weren’t hungry any more, but dearie me, we were drunk.

Are drunk, I think is thew correct statement.

I am wicked and irresponsible and have not yet paid the things that I should pay. I am idle and deserve everything g that is coming to me.

I don’t mind that at the moment. Drink is a marvellous thing. It will be tomorrow morning g when I start to mind, when I am broke with a hangover. That will be rubbish.

However, that day is not today. This is now and I am feeling cheery and enjoying not being at work. I am writing to you whilst Mark does his maths homework. He is busily trying to work out some stupid looking fraction with several hundred times something else over the top of nought point something. I have got a maths O Level but I was sober when I did it and so could work things like that out more easily.

Mark has been at the farm. The picture is attached above, and another one below in case you didn’t get the idea.

It is his attempt to make the rogue camper van look inconspicuous.

I bet you are as impressed as I am. The National Park Authority will never work that one out. You see how subtly the eye is manipulated so that you barely notice the heavily camouflaged camper van amongst the agricultural scenery.

I have spent the day fannying about.

I shouldn’t say that, because o9it is a bit rude, and I never use rude words on here, but I am drunk, so I don’t care. It is a good description anyway, of a day spent trying to get the stupid broken oven to work and telephoning the mortgage company to try and get a better interest rate.

The oven is working now because Mark came home and removed the Safety Feature that makes it not light unless all of the lemons are lined up.

The mortgage company said that they weren’t going to give us a better interest rate because clearly we are not even earning enough to pay the one that we are paying at the moment, so we could get stuffed for anything cheaper.

I had just got to the point of resigned surrender with the mortgage company when there was a banging on the door and it was Elspeth. The doorbell was not working because I had turned the electricity off to try and get the oven to restart, and then forgot to turn it all back on again.  This turned out to be a mistake because I had also forgotten about the bread maker and the washing machine, both of which sulked and refused to finish the things they were supposed to be doing.

I had some sympathy with them/

We had some cups of tea and I grumbled about mortgage companies, and Elspeth, who is an aspirational plutocrat, told me about the difficulties of getting good staff.

When she had gone we should have gone to work but we didn’t.

I don’t gare. I am going to have an early night.

It will put me in a good frame of mind for the incoming hangover.