December 14th, 2005


(no subject)

Its time for another episode of Mr Wombat has insomnia! I swear to Christ, antibiotics are going to be the end of me.

I got a call from the hospital today to let me know there wouldn't be a bed for me tomorrow (wednesday) but would I mind terribly fasting from midnight tomorrow and coming into the hospital at eight AM on thursday for a drive-thru operation. I figure that the less time spent eating hospital food the better I'll fell so I'm okay with that idea.
Which isn't to say I'm not bricking it about the operation itself. Call me a wuss if you like but there's something about letting a complete stranger put you to sleep (with an as yet unresearched odds that it will be permanent) and poke around in your face that brings out the fight or flight response in a guy. Sedated or no, they might want to restrain me in case I punch the surgeon in the balls.

Which reminds me, I have to make a donation to some kind of Nurses' pissup fund and another to some kind of fund that hires people to beat the holy hell out of people who complain when they strike for pay. You couldn't pay *me* enough to have cleaned that half mug of blood and crap off my face, never mind some poor sod who just spent half an hour cleaning up the mess left by some dipshit who couldn't be bothered keeping up to date with the simple post-op procedures and blames them for the infection consuming his head.

But I like it in here

I am in a quandry. I have no food in the house and I am beginning to get hungry. I have two options.

a) Order in food and pay the ridiculous prices demanded by take-aways who inevitably get lost on the way here, end up on Angler's Rest, call me and then deliver the food cold OR

b) Leave the house, brave the cold and the drivers who possess only the most casual of aquaintances with the rules of the road and the concept of the red light. Also, I have just shaved off my facial hair and parts of me that have not been exposed to breezes for the better part of a decade are currently all a quiver with sensation every time I breathe out through my nose. On the positive side, I look several years younger and thanks to my recent weight loss, I have a chin.

My path is clear, I must unleash the newer, sexier Glen on the unsuspecting public. Those of you in the donnybrook/ranelagh area may want to keep an eye out for ambulances rushing to revive ladies who fainted in awe and men who threw themselves into traffic in dispair having had the sexyness bar raised so impossibly high.

(no subject)

About three weeks ago I ordered a package from the US that contained some gifts of a christmas nature and as of today they still hadn't arrived and I was beginning to wonder where the hell they were given that they were shipped UPS. As coincidence would have it, I was just writing a mail to the supplier to ask where the stuff was when UPS themselves called. Imagine my complete and total lack of surprise when they told me they'd tried delivering the package three times last week but I wasn't there. Imagine my slight irritation when I told them no note had been dropped through the letterbox telling me they had tried delivering the package but I wasn't there.
Still, they're delivering it on friday morning, so I should be around then. If not I'll sort something else out.