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From: angelina
Category: Other stuff
Date: 06 May 2004
Dawn chorus of bandsaws- rousing from a fitful sleep, three more hours til I phone in sick. 9:15, no-one picks up, half nine, come on come on, I want to rest, finally get through to discover that I am on the roster for phone today. Slightly doubting colleague runs through schedules for week (not my fault that I get ill on a long Bank holiday weekend) and settle back down into twisted sleep…Re-awakened by angry doorbell ringer who won’t go away, “THIS IS NO.9!!!! Not 10…no I don’t know where it is…” Back to bed and then jump out again to answer call centre call from India, trying to sell me mobile phones….NO I AM ILL!!! Is the best I can do…Make a Lemsip and fall into a delirious sleep, I dream of a baby elephant who is ill….I am the only one who cuddles its hot heavy body, shivering with fever as it wraps its trunk round my neck…Everyone else ignores it and I cry, the dead weight of its body…..I stroke it until it gets weaker and weaker in my arms…Wake up and feel its absence..and start a marathon run of medication, even the sharpness of Lemsip hurts and the ice cream does nothing to calm the thorns in the back of my throat. SHIT, I feel SHIT… but I want a cigarette so bad…Sweat- hot- tired- bored -nothing to watch on TV now the snooker’s finished, fingers too numb to carry on texting…Channel flicking, drifting in and out of C Beebies and the Weakest Link and oh, no Simpsons today….?
Full moon tonight, too bright, and the factory’s doing an all nighter down below. There’s a programme about Muslims on Channel Four and I feel like the world is crashing in my head.
Tomorrow I will make hot toddies and have sex with my lover.
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