I Have A Piss In My Bathroom Sink.
It’s been yet another long day. I give ‘myself’ a shake and run the tap. Balefully I gaze at the toilet that is still brim-full of not-entirely-clean water.
Thirteen hours previously I had enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and had performed my bathroom habits before leaving for work. I had noticed that the toilet did not drain. And in fact had just filled.
“That’s fine”, I thought, “by the time I get home tonight it will have actually fixed itself. All on its own. Like that dead cat in the front garden all those years ago.”
I endure a working day dealing with small businesses who pretend not to exist after what is for them a terrifying Budget and large private businesses who are now spending money like it was some sort of competition.
And then attend after-work drinks with Newly-Gay Friend and yet another of his ‘gentleman callers’ without accidently getting pissed and offending people yet again and am now home safe and sound and need a wee.
Astoundingly nothing has resolved itself in my absence. For the eight-millionth time I reflect upon the doubly-rubbish nature of not only living alone but also being grown-up.
I arm myself with all the household disinfectant I can find and begin bending a wire clothes-hanger into the required shape.
I don’t much fancy anything for dinner anymore.