There's the inbox of idiocy, the constant angle grinding across the road (at least they took The Wall away) and these bickies just can't find a home. I mean, there I was, running about like a blue arsed fly all week trying to get everything tidy: mopping floors, washing the best china and mowing lawns and buying up every vase in the $2 shop, even, so the pinch faced bastards would have little to complain about and none of the pinch faced bastards came around after the funeral. Not a one. No, they all went and had tea elsewhere, without us. Words fail.
So I suppose I escaped the oft times fraught division of the funeral botanicals, and I rather like the fact that half the lounge room is hidden under bloom and I love the rich scent even more, but, by heck, I haven't half got the worst case of hayfever ever.
Never mind. The bickies can go to Bro's workmates who have been lavish with the love and support and bouquets. They really loved the eulogy he wrote, too (yes, in a final dig I was dismissed as unworthy of stringing two words together, as always). But it was nice to see him surrounded by folks who really cared, unlike muggins who stood all by herself. I suppose this is what I get for working so hard but nice funerals don't come cheap, so where's the love, eh?
It was a nice funeral. I got the funeral company I wanted because, having dealt with them officially for years before, I reckoned they were good uns, and they were. At least I did that right. In fact I could hear the stunnedness that I'd not effed it up. Harumph.
So yesterday, after realising there would be nobody around for tea and bickies (best china, best biscuits, best table cloth) I just curled up on the couch and fell asleep during Columbo (there was nothing else on and I wasn't up for a dvd though we did watch a bit of Strange Report later).
Also watched Inspector Lynley (really must write that paper on the class system as depicted by because in my experience, it's spot on, especially the look the tea cake lady gave poor Havers in yesterday's episode), Macbeth (because I needed some McAvoy, stat, bonus Armitage), some old Stargates (how coming only the Tok'ra with speaking parts get pants?) and vintage Buffy. Oh yes, and my sekrit crush, who is sekrit because I've been dissing him for years and I've suddenly seen the error of my ways. Oh my, yes.
But now, back to being grumpy. Is there such a thing as post-MT? Or is it just a sucky week of blood and death and general pettiness has worn me down?
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