Thinner than normal

I have gastroenteritus. It is not the most fun you can have in a week but it has plus and minus points:

Minus points

  • I am miserable.
  • I am so bloody hungry I could eat a low flying duck. Everytime I blink I see a picture of a bacon and sausage sandwich behind my eyelids. Unfortunately I'm only allowed to eat toast. Crap.
  • It hurts.
  • My family are flapping around me like I'm in the throws of a major heart attack when all I want is for everyone to bog off and leave me to miserable on my own.

 

Plus points

  • It has shifted the awkward to move fat bit round my midriff that I was too idle to exercise off.
  • Thanks to the amount of quality time I spent in there this week I now know exactly how many tiles I'm going to need to buy when I finally get enough money together to retile the bathroom.
  • I got three days off work.

 

Ooh, just blinked, there's the sandwich vision again.

 

In other news:

My bizarre friends and neighbours Ann and Tony have made another of their bizarre decisions. They went to Ireland for a 2 week holiday and a wedding. They apparently aren't coming back so Tony informed us yesterday, the kids are enrolled in Irish school and they are putting the house on the market. This is bizarre not only because it's rather a swift decision but also because they moved from Ireland 3 years ago on the grounds that they hated it. As Tony was leaving yesterday he asked me if I'd keep an eye on the rabbit till they return to pack up their stuff and to see if I could find it a home. Sure I said, wondering how much trouble a rabbit could actually be. So yesterday evening I toddle off into their back garden to feed the rabbit. Am quite suprised by the fact that the garden looks like the front line at the Somme with a shed in the middle, it's full of holes and trenches where Tony has started to do something with it then got pissed off and left it. It has sparse patches of grass here and there and a large hole at the side of the shed which baffled me slightly. Or it did until Geoffrey (my dog) started barking and jumping up and down. This startled the rabbit which shot into the hole by the shed. When I looked, the tunnel it's dug must be several feet long. Sodding wonderful, I have been left in sole charge of someone else's pet which has taken up residence in a burrow two feet under the shed and which moves at the speed of light. I thought perhaps I could entice the damn creature into the hutch with a bowl of food so off I go to the hutch. No chance. It's so bloody filthy that even hypnotherapy wouldn't have persuaded the creature in, given a choice I too would rather live under the shed than sleep on 2 inches of my own shit. Added to which if I actually put an animal into a cage that filthy I would probably be liable to prosecution under animal welfare laws (and if I wasn't I bloody well should be). So I'm not entirely sure what the best course of action is now. Why is it always me that ends up in this situation? I am indeed a hopeless eejit.

So if anyone knows anyone who would like a white angora rabbit please let me know because I don't fancy having to take the thing to the animal sanctuary and get the "You bought a pet, can't cope with it and are now dumping it on us" look.  

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4 Responses

  1. Yikes sorry about the stomach bug!
    Scary rabbit, no idea what to do I'm afraid. I would offer to take it but it would surely end up merely being a tasty snack for our cats.

  2. I tried suggesting to Micah that we took the rabbit but I didn't even get to the end of the sentence before he said no. It wasn't even the no that I got when I suggested getting a dog friend for Geoffrey, it was the sort of no that says there is no hope of changing the no to a perhaps and that there will be endless rows if the rabbit ends up at ours. My boss is going to ask her daughter if she wants the rabbit. If she does I've no idea how I'm going to catch the bloody thing.

  3. Gastroenteritis was alwas badly misnamed in my book, surely it should be gastroexititis? See what I did there, ahhh, comedy is truly the pain of others. Or your own pain plus about 2 years and some really expensive therapy and possibly a divorce?
    Here's a thought; Cook then eat the rabbit. Two problems solved in one go.
    Otherwise call the RSPCA they'll come catch and rehome it, job done, no muss no fuss. You just tell your neighbour that the rabbit was gone and you didn't know what to do and the RSPCA came and solved everyone's problems.

  4. I asked my friend Clare who is a vet what she reckoned I should do about the rabbit and she came up with the idea of cooking it as well. The caring profession my arse. I might have to resort to the RSPCA because last night's attempt at catching the bastard creature ended with 2 scraped knees, a polite request from Ann's neighbour to modify my language as her kids were in the garden and the rabbit disappearing triumphantly under the shed. At which point I would have quite happily dealt with the rabbit problem by using a grenade.

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