I appear to be suffering from a strange affliction, can you help me please?
On several occasions recently I have found myself standing in my garage swearing at inanimate objects. It started with a strange collection of items which had mysteriously gathered there. A dead car battery, Random bits of ply, a bag of compost, a couple of child seats and any number of bikes. I swore at them very loudly but they refused to budge.
Then after a few days an enormous slab of MDF appeared, I swore at it too but it wouldn’t listen to a word I said so I chopped it up.
The next thing I knew I was shouting at my pencil. Well I would have shouted at it if it had shown its pointy little stick-like face long enough, but in its absence I was forced to shout at the memory of a pencil. Not a real pencil, just an accusation of a pencil.
When it did turn up it was broken, and every time I whittled it to a point, it snapped.
Then I snapped.
I do not know what makes me go out there. I’m sitting cosy and snug watching Homes Under The Hammer and the next thing I know I’m Out There, freezing my nadgers off.
I’m getting seriously worried now, the latest episode has involved sharp instruments and torture.
Some of my ply bits are keepsakes, reminders, fragments of memories, remnants of loves lost. Some are from an unmentionable episode during the early days of Katie Beardie. There are some dating all the way back to sweet Caitlin, ( be still by beating heart) with her sensuous curves. I know I saw a shard of Polythene Pam, which pierced my heart like a stilletto.
Now I've began to wrap them round the MDF in a sordid contortion of an embrace which seems to cause loud grunting sounds and more swearing.
I’m really not sure where this will end!
I’m getting these sudden urges to go out and buy whole sheets of pristine plywood and swear at it.
I don’t like doing things by halves.
Can you help me please.