mental machinations and meanderings of a silly old fool.

it's two in the morning,
and,right on cue,as is my wont,
i 'm wide awake,and i can't sleep.

wife and lardboy are putting up new wardrobes(flatpacks) in the marital bedroom,and so,the room is recieving a bit of a tidying up.
she says that she's gonna paper and paint,where the wardrobes are to be situated,and then,when they are inplace,re-decorate the rest of the room.
yes dear.
"the bedroom,or living-room floor?"
she asked last night.
"the bedroom".
"okay,i'll sleep with the dog."she said.
she,who would be my sweet,adorable,loving,long suffering wife.
now there's a turn around.
it was always me who slept with the dog.
"there are fireworks going off.he doesn't like fireworks,and he might just derive some small measure of comfort from my being there".
mmmmmmmmmm, me to,i thought to myself.
"okay"

so anyway;there am i,in a folded up duvet,on the bedroom floor.lying in the narrow gap,between semi-erected wardrobes,and an up-ended double-bed.
and my body,hurts like stink.back,knees,and ankles mainly.
i am managing a neck-strain,wich,i'm sure,is from sleeping on a hard floor.

i lie there,thinking,about life,times, and experiences.my mind in overdrive.
flitting.from thought to thought.so many images,in the bat of an eyelid.
and inevitably,,,,,

my thoughts turn to my female bus-driver friend,well,she's not atually my freind,i remind myself.
i wonder what she thinks of me,if indeed,she does think of me.
what if we inadvertantly met?during her off-duty time,would she acknowedge me?or i her?should i?
would she want me to?why am i doing this to myself?
i'm an old man,a married old man.
"might be old,but i'm not dead"i tell myself.
well,she speaks to me,we chat en route,the voice reminds,again.
well yes,but all bus-drivers chat,make smalltalk,probably bored stupid behind that wheel all day.

i can see her,in my mind's eye;
quite plain-looking really,with a rounded face,but not chubby.
she has big brown eyes,the sweetest smile,has a small gap between her front teeth,and doesn't go overboard with make-up.
she's cute.
her voice,pitch,tone,elocution,
the way that the tips of her short straight black hair just touch the underside of her jawline.
everything about her,is just,,,,,,,nice.
my kind of nice.
and she wears glasses,what is it with me and women wearing glasses?

what the hell,i'm awake now.
i mean really awake.
and i can't be running up and down stairs for the next six hours making coffee.
so,the the crumpton oaks is gonna take a hammering.

and you,
by now,
if you've read this,
maybe you could use a drink to eh?

well here's to ya.

erix.