miserable git

Is this a unisex term? I generally think of a git as being male but today it’s the best word I can think of to describe myself. Got more of a ring to it than cow. Blogs don’t have to be full of  the joys every day, do they, so in the absence of anything else happening, and by way of displacement, of which I am queen, I thought I’d list  the ten* top reasons I’m pi**ed off.

Year End – as in tax. It’s all over the floor

Unopened post that’s  bill-shaped – ditto

My back – hurts – see post on Monday

My arse –  huge. Have taken no discernible exercise since LAST  thursday. See posts from Friday. I am supposed to be an expert on a hundred ways to combat Writer’s Bottom (vague work in progress) – where will my authority be with a backside the size of Milton Keynes?

To-do list – also vast. Three columns, two blog posts, one article and a short story. Do I have  ideas for any of them? No.

Cold. I have one. Caught it from my son so it must be man flu. Be why I’m being pathetic.

Olympic Torch –  passing through town today. The Olympics annoy me, I don’t want to go, but don’t want to feel I’ve missed it either. Grrr

Phones ringing – One more call asking if I’ve got PPI, and I’ll contravene the Telecommunications Obscenity Act

Phones not ringing –  since when has “within two hours” meant three days?

Wine –  totally out of Macon Blanc Villages

Bed – wish I was in it with my head under the covers (you probably do too)

Relatives  – my sister has  texted the following: “When we  sit for long periods our fat cells become stretched and store 50% more fat.”  She thinks this will cheer me up.

Spouses – don’t get me started.

But ON a brighter note, it is not raining, I am not dead and the local booze shop delivers. Down but not out. Or something. Oh and I have lots of chocolate. So it could all be  much worse. And as Eeyeore might observe – it probably will be… 🙂

* ok 13 – but let’s not be pedantic


  1. Re Writer’s Bottom. From what I can gather, the fat cells become stretched when we sit for long periods, and the cells then store 50% more fat. Yikes.

  2. For Macon see stock of Meths / lighter fuel.
    Olympic torch – walk around with a cornetto in your hand.
    Arse – walk up and down the stairs dictating; it’s still writing.
    Man flu – I’m a man, can’t help. Sorry.
    Bed – Dutch Ovening yourself is fairly desperate… 🙂

  3. Thank you chaps. Am such an innocent I had to google the Dutch Oven reference (tho I suspected it might be something fairly vile). 🙂
    Much too well brought-up, thank you….

  4. I was going to cheer you up and say I have a bum the size of Northampton but although we have 17K more people we’re 80km2 vs MK’s 89km2… but at least you have the sea. 🙂

    Am grateful right now for only having a brother and I’m much bossier to him than him me. 🙂

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