At some point in our lives each of us will suffer from stress. Some more than others...and anyone who says they have never experienced stress...are either liars....or carriers! I'd probably suggest the latter in most cases.
Given the nature of my numerous neuroses I practically live on a diet of fingernails and chocolate, spending each day with a brow so furrowed as to render me Klingon in appearance!So on occasion, when nervous energy is spent, you'll find me flopped upon the couch trying to prise my clenched fists open, in an attempt to relax with a milky coffee and a Prozac sandwich.
But I don't always manage to achieve this state of reverie, as was the case the other day. I'd barely un-knotted my eyebrows before the phone started ringing!
Some hysterical, hyperactive individual, with a voice not dissimilar to what I'd expect if you'd hand reared a chipmunk on a diet of helium and crack, squealed an enquiry as to my well-being, before assaulting my senses with a garbled mention of changing energy suppliers.
I listened politely for some time before interrupting his monologue by saying...
"Well this has been lovely...but now I need to go and spend some 'me time' ramming the fridge door into my head"...and thus we parted.
That over with, I settled down again and gradually, I could feel sleep creeping up on me...and if it hadn't been for the door bell ringing it would have caught up!
Wearing the twitch of discontentment I dragged my reluctant body up from the settee and opened the door to find a dreaded Jesus Preacher standing there, dressed like an auditionee for Men in Black, with his obligatory child accomplice!These people must get to choose their own side-kick before they set off for a days worth of knocking on doors pissing people off!.
Sometimes it's a kid, sometimes there's a person in a wheel chair with them...and if they're REALLY going for the pity-party jugular...the kid will be in the wheelchair!
Still, on that particular day, for all I cared, he could have been accompanied by a choir of weeping orphans singing Old Shep, clutching tear soaked photos of their poor deceased mother, to their consumptive little chests ...I simply didn't care!...I was far too worn out and agitated to give a shite...and that's why I told him I was a Satanist.
These interruptions were really getting to me now and ruining the day. I was sick of the phone ringing...sick of the door bell constantly ringing...and then I was just sick.
I was about to attempt to lie on the couch again, when I heard something being pushed through my letter box. Instantly, the neurosis I carry which enjoys catastrophising every innocuous situation in my life kicked in, compelling me to run to the door in a bid to quickly assess whatever life threatening object had been thrust upon me!
It was a plastic bag with a note attached asking for clothing donations to help the starving.
Now I am not an unreasonable person and I applaud all of the charities for the work they do but...you need to understand... I was on the edge of my wits here!...I'd been pushed to the limit!...and that's why I opened the front door to confront the startled guy who'd posted the bag by shouting at him...
"If they can fit into my clothes they're not effin' starving are they????"...and then I ran in...ashamed.
For the millionth time I returned to the sofa. I could feel myself drifting again...ahhh yessss...gently beginning to float upon a bubble of bliss...lids folding over sleepy red eyes...drool welling up in the corner of my gaping gob...and then the phone rang again!!!...
I jumped up and snatched it with the dexterity of a demonically possessed Ninja, with a temper to match!...
"Whatever you want to give me I don't effin' want it!" I bellowed"What I want you to do with whatever it is that you want to give me that I don't effin' want ...is to stick it sideways up your mithering, intrusive, bug bearing arse. Do you think you could do that for me? Do you?"....
There was a slight pause, followed by...
"Well, I'll give it a go but one of the library books you've ordered is a hardback so there could be a bit of a struggle!"...
The most peaceful happening to follow that, was the small funeral I held in the garden for my library card.......at least one of us got to rest in peace!...
© Copyright Lynn Gerrard 2.8.2012
