I bet you been a wonderin what I been up to this week. Well
I tell ye. First I had these feckin antibiotics and I ain't known whether I
been Arthur or Marther all the week. Plus I have had mines Mr Husband home to
keep me eye on. But today been a different matter. It has been the time when
the little chap from the agents do come to the house to check its all tickety
boo and I ain't growing weeds. The weeds can't get through all them there
feckin stones out the front since the landlady put them everywhere and stopped
me planting bulbs and burying bodies. So today they sent a different chap-
since I told that one I loved him by accident they keep sending different ones.
Today we had little ol' Ivor from Wales-
although I don't be thinking he came all the way from Wales to see
me. He was very polite and took his shoes off at the front door. The first
thing he asked was if I had any issues. Did I have any issues? Well where to
start was the problem. Good job he brought his A4 notebook I thought. Anyways being Bipolar and having Aspergers and
the fact the MMH won't let me have a joint bank account and I think that only
makes us 95% married, with him weren't the kind of issues he had come to
discuss but he suggested a psychologist and relate. I said 'well if you think
you need one of them two then you should go'. He said he meant for me- cheeky
devil. Then he started poking around looking at stuff and making notes. Then he
went out the back and asked me if I had a problem with the roof- did I have any
tiles loose? I told him I thought we had already discussed me seeing the
psychologist and he said he meant on the top of the house. I told him I didn't
know- I can't see the friggin roof from inside and I don't get out much. Then
he said ' I need to go out but I don't have my shoes on'. I just looked at him
and said 'Well you took the feckin things off you stupid boy'. I wasn't running
round getting his shoes for him. I ain't married to him. So out he went in
stockinged feet. Well blue socked feet to be precise and tiptoed through the
wet grass to look at the roof. Then he came back with wet feet and asked me if
he could go upstairs- I went with him. I never let people with wet feet wander
around my house alone. I tend to sometimes leave a square or two of chocolate
around (quite by accident-I wouldn't abandon chocolate on purpose- get a grip)
and I don't want anyone pinching it. (I have read about estate agents stealing
chocolate!). On the landing again he asked me if I had any issues. What is it
with this man and wanting to know about me issues. All well until I tell him!
Before I could get started he said he meant with regard to the house. I told
him about him at number 5 with the ropey cock and all the noise he makes and
the traffic is a bit noisy and too fast and that bus stopping opposite gets on
me tits. He told me they were not issues he meant and he could do nothing to
help. Well why bloody ask! He changed the subject by cooing over the jacuzzi. I
told him it was a waste of space and feckin nightmare when the pipes slimed up.
Then he moved into the MMH's bedroom and he asked me if I had a damp patch. I
told him my damp patches were mine and MMH's business and no-one elses and then
he wrote in his notebook again. Then I managed to corner him in my bedroom
under that friggin mirror on the ceiling. He had a little swing on it and then
he wanted to look in the cupboard to see if he could find a damp patch. The man
was obsessed with feckin damp patches. He couldn't reach the knob and I offered
to lift him up but he declined. I told him I have trouble reaching knobs as
well sometimes. Especially if they happen to be zooming past. (Joggers and such
like-MMH trying to get out the house to get to work!!). I chatted to him for a
long time then- there's no escape in the corner of my bedroom- Haha. Eventually
he squeezed passed me and down over the stairs and apologised for disturbing
me. 'Its ok' I said 'I have been disturbed a long time and it's so nice to have
some company'. He shook my hand and said 'well Mrs Lucas' (cos that's my name)-
'well Mrs Lucas, maybe we could get a rota and come and see you more often'.
That sounded like a plan to me. I held his hand tight and told him how nice
that would be. He struggled free and took his phone out and said he needed to photograph
my damp patch in the porch- well I told you he was obsessed. I said 'this is
most irregular- MMH won't be liking this when I tell him'. I said I had issues
with slimes and squirms hence the copper tape and would he like to hear about
that. With that he grabbed his shoes putting them on as he was going down the
path. I called after him that I hadn't shown him inside the garage- they always
check the garage to see if I am growing weeds in there. But its only gladioli
bulbs because of the fracas I had with the landlady over bulbs in the summer.
He shot off (I blame the damp patch- he really had a thing about the damp
patch) and I think that's the last I will see of little Welsh Ivor I guess.
Shame really, I was just about to tell him about my sisters Issues.
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