Yes, it is still very hot, I mean seriously hot, the kind of hot that kills Scottish people as we are not good at avoiding the sun. We don’t really understand that big ball of fire in the sky. It burns us and we die.
So I got up in a bad mood. I can hear you ask ‘why Janey?’ well I will tell you why.
Last night I was suffering from a sore neck/head I am not sure what is going on and have a doctor’s appointment on Friday. I am tired, hot and sticky. I told husband that I was off to bed at 1am and NOT TO BE DISTURBED….please.
So I lay there in the cool dark and fell asleep. I was awoken at 2am with a loud metal clanging noise that echoed throughout the car park that is situated at the back of my flat. My back bedroom window overlooks the car park.
I sat up sleepily and kneeled on my pillow and hung out of window to see what the fuck the noise was. There was a car at the big twenty foot long metal arm that constituted as the barrier to the car park. A woman dressed in long black robes, those religious ones that even cover their face with a black thick net was furiously kicking the metal arm, her long black dress was pulled up and I could clearly see her leg (is that not immoral?) anyway she clanged the metal pole off the metal post AGAIN…the noise was horrific…
She then finally stopped kicking the metal pole, got back in her car and drove into the car park. I hung out of the window as she noisily got out of her car beneath my window, her husband was dressed in typical western dress (track suit) I looked at them and shouted down “Excuse me what is the deal with banging the gate loudly? It’s the middle of the night?”
Her husband looked up quickly, the woman didn’t even raise her head, she shuffled on and he seemed surprised that he was being addressed and shouted up to me “My wife doesn’t speak to strangers, please don’t talk to her”
“She may not fucking talk to strangers but I just watched her boot that gate arm till it banged three times and woke me up, oh and by the way I saw her leg”
They ignored me, maybe she was bored rigid having to wear that outfit in that heat and her kicking the gate was her only way getting out any frustrations. Each to their own.
So I tried to sleep. I was edgy and grumpy and called the lady in black a few
un- christian names like fucking bitch and noisy bastard.
I finally drifted off to sleep.
Husband came in and despite reminding him for the last twenty five years not to wake me up for sex….yes….he decided to top the kicky crazy lady from Oman and wake me up. You see I suffer terrible nightmares and sleep problems, I have never had a cure for it and sometimes wake up screaming, and therefore touching me when I am asleep is strictly forbidden…he knows this.
I was slowly pulled from sleep as he was stroking my back, to him that was sexy, to me in my deepest sleep that was a rapist dragging a sharp knife down my spine. He put one hand on my hip and hugged me, in my dreamy state that was a spike being driven into my flesh.
He kissed me and in my head I was being suffocated, I woke up with a scream and pushed him away.
I eventually fell back asleep and this morning I woke up, recalled the whole event and burst into tears for no real reason other than exhaustion. I am tired and stressed just now and he is not helping me.
I looked at him lying there and ripped the covers off his head and shouted at him “ “Why don’t you just fucking rape me when you come into bed and get it over with” He jumped awake and sat up “I am sorry”
“Sorry? Fucking sorry? How many times do we need to go over this?” I screamed and started crying again.
So today didn’t have a good start.
I can assure you the day got worse.
I went to the chemist to pick up some medication for husband (Strychnine??…no it was skin cream…) as I stood in the chemist a young girl was getting her methadone dosage.
Methadone is a heroin substitute and Glasgow has a huge heroin problem.
I watched as she downed her dose in front of the pharmacist, she then turned and dropped the empty bottle and fell to the floor in the biggest ever fake fall you ever did see.
I merely moved away, but she still managed to land on my sore foot.
She then jumped up to her feet and shouted “I fainted and dropped my bottle and spilled it”
Drug addicts can sometimes use any method of subterfuge and play acting to gain an other dose of medication, as their habit may be bigger than their approved dose.
I watched her stand there and the pharmacist looked at her and then stared at the clean and dry tiled floor, no evidence of any spilt medication to be seen.
The poor addict spotted this and then quickly and desperately turned to me and shouted “She stole my methadone when I fell”
I laughed aloud and looked at the staff that were all standing bewildered and unsure as to where this big improv show was going. Boy. this is good rehearsal for Ashley and I sketch show!
“Ok enough of the whole Norma Desmond act, they know you drank it, they have a CCTV camera on you and do I fucking look like I drink methadone?” I snapped.
“Who the fuck is Norma Desmond?” she shouted back. Wow this is a good sketch I thought to myself.
“She was a shop lifter for Shettleston, who lived in a shoe, what the fuck does that matter; just leave me out of your charade” I laughed.
She ran out of the shop screaming abuse at me, poor cow, she must be desperate.
So that was my day, I have still to get my posters and flyers made and can’t actually get it done due to problems with my designer/printer. I need to get on the case and tonight if husband attempts to wake me up, I am going to stab him and use this blog as evidence of provocation.
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