Fragment #28 - Waiting

Thursday 7th May 2009
In Glasgow

Reader, did you know that the fear of long words is; Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia? Neither did I, I had no idea how wonderfully cruel people can be. Imagine being a shrink and having to tell your patient that diagnosis, I love it.
I'm sitting here in my living room on a cloudy, windy afternoon with only my thoughts to keep me occupied as I wait on some friends coming round.
And I think. I continue to think as I put the coffee mug to my mouth and find it unpleasantly empty. I'm thinking about the last few months. Reader, it is with shame that I tell you that “fail” is the best word for what happened.
I get up and wander through to the kitchen, determined in my mission to end the emptiness of my cup. The place seems to smell different now that Lynne and Sandra are gone, it's quieter too.
Decisions, decisions; real coffee, or instant? I choose instant and heap four spoonfuls into my mug. I decide, after a seconds hesitation, not to pour the water, thinking it prudent to boil the kettle first.
Then there was that girl, I can't say her name, one day we had a “let's just be friends” conversation. It was my fault really, I took her for granted.
I add uncertain amounts of milk and sugar to my cup after pouring the water and wander back through.
At least things are looking up now, I now have a column called “I hate you” in a magazine. Plus I now have this place to myself (And mice, rats, cockroaches, flies, wasps and the burgeoning civilisation growing in a bowl under my bed) again.
I sit down pondering whether tidy before people come round, or if I should just pretend it's an art installation. Fuck it.