A Legal Alien

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17 January 2005

I couldn't fall alseep until 4am. At 8:30, the Sky technician rang to say he'd be here between 9 and 12. With a yawn, I decided I should at least get dressed so if he showed up at 9, I wouldn't have to rush to throw on clothes while he came upstairs. Straightened up a bit, pulled on some sweats and went back to blissful bed. Until the door buzzer rang with the postman delivering a box. Argh! No rest for the weary and bleary eyed.
The Sky guy got here about 9:15 and was here for a whopping 10 minutes. I'm now back to the land of the 867 channels. Of course, there's more to it than that. After he finished up, he asked to use the toilet. I said sure but sort of cringed because I knew it wasn't that presentable. It was clean but not as clean as I'd like it for a guest. As I sat here, I heard a bit of um.. gastro-intestinal distress. He left as soon as he finished. It took about 5 minutes for the methane to reach me in the lounge but OH MY GOD it was like Hiroshima in there. I lit 3 candles, sprayed some Dettol, turned on the fan. When I finally gathered the nerve (and sufficient olfactory deadening) to go in the bathroom, I found flecks of feces all around the toilet bowl. This is not a good way to start my day. It's bad enough to clean up my own messes but to scour MY toilet with SOMEONE ELSE'S fecal matter?

I don't like Mondays.

For Paul Barrett

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