We used to drive past
a woman begging on the side of the road.
Her cardboard begging
sign said:
“I’m surfering”
I know it is perverse
and wrong and I apologise but it is unfortunately how my mind works.
BUT
I kept imagining her
on a surf board.
Talking about
surfering I have had my own lately.
Michael quit smoking
two weeks ago and it has been a real trial.
BUT
Despite being sorely
tempted in the past two weeks I did not cave.
I wanted so many times to drive to the shop to buy him cigarettes but I
remained strong.
I know, very admirable
of me right.
I have put up with:
- Swearing that would make a sailor blush.
- Too much talk about Z= see this link
- His pacing, until watching made me dizzy.
- Having to cook more often than is fair (I like our equal sharing of cookery Michael 90 percent of the time me 10 percent of the time)
- Extra extreme irritation from him to my natural state (not listening and of course in the interest of self preservation I have been actively ignoring him)
I need an intervention
because I don’t know how much more of this I can take I might just jump into
the car and drive to the store and buy him his bloody cancer sticks.
