0800 - Woke up. Stretched. Farted. Rolled over on side to click spine into place. Picked nose and flicked onto floor. Indigo asleep still. Got up. Went downstairs to kitchen. Got bowl out of cupboard. Poured in shreddies and skimmed milk. Sprinkled chocolate Nesquik over top. Went back upstairs and turned on the Today programme. Shaved. Put on suit. Gobbed in sink. Didn’t wash it down. Only do token tap turn when Indigo is in the bathroom or she will NAG. After dressing and ablutions go back to kitchen. Eat soggy cereal, just the way I like it.
Get jacket, wallet, ipod, my two mobiles and cigarettes for my new fag-a-day habit.
Give Rosie an enormous hug and masses of kisses and tell her I’ll miss her. Give Indigo a peck – she’s been a right pain since I said I wouldn’t have a vasectomy.
Yesterday I said to her “you’re just angry with me all the time and all because I won’t get my balls cut open.” She says “you really haven’t a clue have you?” I fail to understand the woman and what’s got into her. I live with a yoyo. She wants me to go to relationship counselling. Thank God I haven’t got a day off for weeks.
0830 - Leave for work. Continue listening to Today on phone radio on way to the station. Get on train. Stand to Cannon Street. Don’t mind. Read all the newspapers on my internet phone.
0930 - Arrive at work. Work all day for peanuts.
2000 - Leave to come home. Phone Indigo to see what’s for dinner. She says she’s out of ideas. She “works” at home, or so she says, but I still do the dinner on my days off AND tidy up after it. Indigo never does ironing, puts clothes away, hoovers or tidies up (unless we have guests over). We pay a cleaner to do it but she only comes once a week and doesn’t do the ironing. My ten-year-old niece from Spain saw me ironing my shirts on her last visit and gasped. She’d never seen a man ironing before. Tried to press point to Indigo but she bangs on about equality. How tedious. If only we lived in Spain where us men get treated with the reverence we deserve.
2100 – get home. Say hello to Indigo. She says, “how was your day?” and goes downstairs to prepare my dinner. I reply, “really boring”, fart, then go for a poo.
2120 – Indigo hands me a tray with my dinner on it. I do not like quite a few of her “dishes” including her mushroom risotto and carrot & tomato soup. She’s into ready meals at the moment. Says she’s too busy. Tonight it’s left over stir fry I made yesterday.
2130 – fart and watch the top of the recorded news - BBC, ITV, Channel 4 - Then watch the Daily Show and maybe will watch an episode of either West Wing, Peep Show, Spaced, Entourage, Derren Brown, Curb Your Enthusiasm or a documentary.
2200 – Indigo tells me her boring stories from the day. I nod and pretend to listen. Sometimes I say, “Just give me the headlines” and she gets pissed off
2200 – fart and eat chocolate spread on ryvita and an orange
2230 – pick nose and watch TV while Indigo gets ready for bed
2300 – run a salt bath (I have chafing between my thighs)
2315 – get suit ready for the next day, fart
2330 – lock door to bathroom
2340 – have a wank
0000 – go upstairs to bed - thank god Indigo has fallen asleep again under her book and won't be wanting any sex. Remove book and turn off her light. Read some of Stalingrad. Fall asleep.
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