Monday, June 13, 2011

Just Call me Nancy....

Blatantly copied from Nickie at Typecast, me & Nancy have so much in common we could be the same person.... well you've never seen us in the same room together!  See how similar our days are.

Donkey
Mad Sven bonking Nancy Dell'Olio














Spot the difference!






Just a typical day at Casa Very Bored

I wake up early, despite the fact that I never really function at all. I’m gifted to not need a lot of sleep. Five hours is normal, seven is luxury, but it’s bloody unheard of. I don't have a very busy schedule, I have an ever growing bump that demands several trips to the bog and a four year old. I don’t need sleep.

I go to the bathroom, then I piss a litre of water, which my midwife recommends to stop me from embarrassing myself on the school run. I try not to do any work before 10.30am to allow me time to waste on twitter. 

I like to relax, maybe write a few facebook status'  in my gigantic pants, do a large breakfast. I have sausage, egg, bacon and mushrooms and a mug o' builder's tea, and after breakfast I empty my bowels. Seven times a week a man comes to give me a massage. I tell my randy old fella to bugger off and that it's that sort of behaviour that got us into this predicament.  Or I read the back of the Davina Pregnancy Exercise DVD.  And I love to roller skate in my village, but it’s so difficult to find the time and the pavements are pretty knackered.
Since I was a little child in Nottingham, people have looked at me, and not because I’m beautiful; it’s because I have a propensity to embarrass myself in public. I know it's fascinating. But I have a thick skin and it gives me something to blog  about. I’ve never endured  jealousy probably because other folk don't want to be seen in odd shoes or pegs on their clothes, but I don’t care. I’m special. The most important thing I have is shoes and pegs. And it’s part of my culture to take the piss out of people.
I’m not privileged to have good skin. It’s not olive, you know, it’s rose, and very delicate, the type that sunburns in Feburary much to the locals amusement. I dedicate no time at all to cleansing and moisturising. Lately I’m using a cream that also doubles up as toothpaste for my many zits, otherwise known as Colgate, it looks especially good in the evening. I love to look 25, like I look now.  Then I wipe the steam off the bathroom mirror  and look for my glasses. And it’s my goal to not be dead at 70, but it's unlikely. 

Diet is important too. You need to ignore your metabolism. I like a lot of cheese — I always have cheddar and laughing cow in my fridge and I eat a lot of peanut M&Ms. But no bread. I take folic acid and some other shit the midwife gave me and I have a blood test at a clinic every 3 months, but that's being up the duff for you. When you’re in the public eye like me you need a 48-second window  just to not give a shit how you look.

I phone my assistant, t'husband, and he tells me to stop mithering him at work. I love clothes but I am to fat to fit in Mango or Zara, so Tents'R'Us call and they send Prisoner Cell Block H style dungarees to me. 

I have a lot of emails, which I like to largely ignore over lunch with my son, 10 seconds from where I sleep. Or the kitchen or sofa. I don’t know anyone who does as little as I do. I’m a work at home mum after all. I social network, call it twittering.  I do social networking for very small companies in Australia, America and the UK. But it's boring, so I write the occasional blog post. 

I’m reading a novel and a book about what to expect in pregnancy, and I want to watch two programs on TV, but I can’t remember which. I wish one day there’ll be a movie about how I spend my day, because I think Channel 5 probably have a small enough budget to cover such horse shit.
I’m a very loved person. T'husband and son, they both love me, and this is because I feed them. I hardly ever forget, which is important, but the characteristic I’m most proud of is that I don't spoil my man. Bloody lazy git can fetch his own beer from the fridge! I'm not a feminist, I’m a donkey. It’s my nature to be stubborn and lazy and I've always lived my life like this. I did it with my first husband and the second I buried under the patio, and I’ll do it with any new man in my life, even Jake Gyllenhaal. 
I never wanted children; but I got knocked up anyway, I feel completely overwhelmed because I never have any time for me, 'cept for when he's at school and that, but I’m like a mother to my son. I shower him with attention — physical, material, psychological, back to back Peppa Pig — it’s the way I love.

And I don't require attention back, because that would probably involve some kind of effort. Sometimes it does get quite stressful. I’m normal, you know, so you’re going to have a very uninteresting and boring experience with me. But at the same time, I’m not fussy. I'm very easy. But then, those days are behind me now...
In the afternoon I avoid Spanish cold-calls on the telephone trying to sell me stuff, I read the online papers, scratch my mosquito bites. I still have to learn how to really relax. I love to be at home, to have a whirlpool bath with oils and candles, but my bathroom is very small and is full of rubber ducks and plastic fish.

I’m invited nowhere and I can’t say no. I sometimes change out of my PJs for dinner with my t'husband and I occasionally brush my hair. I’ve been going to the toilet a lot — it’s always been my passion — and I love the toilet. T'husband said already I’m the most intelligent person he’s ever met, but he was drunk at the time. I’m sure the majority of people haven’t sat through seven hours of America's Next Top Model as I have. I can describe every ANTM  to you and I do know Shakespeare very well, he used to live next door.
Sometimes, if I’m too tired to take my make-up off, I remember just in time that it was 2007 when I last applied any and all is good with the world. I sleep on my side, with three or four pillows wedged in between me & t'husband. I wear a huge flannelette nightie but the bugger still tries it on...

I always wake up after two hours for a piss, then I need a trick to make me relax — it used to be a bottle or two of wine but now it's Fanta Lemon.  Maybe people think I have everything.  Clearly these people are deranged, but I am in with a chance of a Soda stream*....



*if you vote for me in the MADs