I'm thinking (and have been for a while) about re-subtitling my blog. "The wonderfully insightful ramblings of a genius. Or not as the case may be." is lame at best. I don't know why I thought it would suffice, but, I did. And 18 months later, I've still not changed it to something more appropriate.
I'm thinking "Conversations with stupid people." That does after all sum up what I generally write about. In fact, it sadly sums up my life.
If I were to change it to that, there would be the risk of causing offence to people that I actually like though. Apparently, I almost do now...
"I don't take my girlfriends to meet my mother," said my friend in the pub on Friday night. "I take them to meet you. My mother is never going to like any girl I go out with, so your approval is the benchmark they must meet."
"Really? Aww. Thanks. I think. You know that's going to be blogged, right?"
"Yes, I know. Sometimes I think I should be offended by some of the things you write. But it's just too funny to actually be offensive."
Yes, me and my friend were having a mutual appreciation ceremony trying to boost each others egos because she's neurotic about her new job, and I'm just permanently, well, neurotic. And I had wet boobs, and looked like I'd dried myself, which is never good for the self-esteem.
to dry oneself: verb. The opposite of "to wet oneself". When sitting in a wheelchair your lap is at the perfect angle to catch every drop of rain that falls. However, because of your seating position, your groinal area will remain totally dry, looking like you have invertedly wet yourself. Or "dried yourself".
A couple of weeks ago, I was visited by an Occupational Therapist. Being disabled and knowing what you need to make your life easier isn't enough in this world. Apparently my 26 years experience of being me pales in comparison to someone who did an Occupational Therapy degree for three years, and is therefore qualified to know all about me. I shouldn't grumble, because she was reasonably nice, and did concur with everything I said I needed. It's not often that someone could send me a potential weapon through the post (a v sharp knife... with a right angled handle which is why it came from an OT) and I'd be grateful rather than slightly fearful.
Anyway, she has sufficient authority to order handrails so I can get out into the back garden, and to order me lever taps, so I can, you know, run water (though, bang goes my "but, I can't wash up" excuse). She doesn't however have the authority to order me some non-slip flooring for my bathroom. Apparently, if I wanted her to rip out my bath and replace it with a shower, she could sign the form to do that. Just non-slip flooring - that has to be signed for by the boss.
Who - this morning I found out - won't.
OK, so, today I didn't actually have a conversation with a stupid person (well, not yet, anyway. It's still only mid-afternoon, so there's plenty of time), I had a conversation with a third party mouthpiece for a stupid person.
According to aforementioned managerial stupid person, having a bath is more dangerous to me than having a slippery floor. Even though it is less than a year (only just, tomorrow marks the one year anniversary) since I last broke a bone slipping on a wet slip floor (presumably a "slip floor" is the opposite of "non-slip" floor?), and I have, thus far, never broken anything getting out of a bath. Unless you count the pretty glass candle lamp thing I knocked flying the other day (don't panic mother, it wasn't lit).
And how does refusing to install a non-slip bathroom floor, make the act of bathing - which he perceives to be so dangerous - safer? Is it supposed to discourage me from being clean? I suppose it's worth a shot after all, going a week without having a bath and then popping into his office. Which I hope is hot, small and poorly ventilated. I wonder if that might make him change his mind? I could even take my trainers off. Maybe waft one in his face until he signs the order for something that I won't involuntarily skate on.
For now though the situation is:
Stupid people: 1
Lisy Babe: 0