Does anyone believe that an ulcer on the tip of your tongue means you've told a lie?
If so, I must have told the most humungous lie as I have the most humungous ulcer. It's so painful that talking hurts, and people who know me well will know it takes a lot for me to stop talking!
What I really need is some Bonjela and a week in the Bahamas… think we all know which one I'll be buying at lunch.
Anyway, the love/hate relationship with my iPhone continues to rage. When I accidentally poured water over it the other day, I realised I loved it and apologised repeatedly for ever thinking bad thoughts about it, promising to never think bad things again if only it would keep working.
But then, when auto correct changes words that are already correct into completely insane alternatives, I find myself tempted to immerse it in an entire bucket of water as punishment. It really is driving me bonkers.
And another thing, I never thought I could miss buttons this much. I never thought I would ever write a sentence about missing buttons.
But on the other hand, I love iTunes and Pocket Lyrics, and the tube application that tells you how many minutes away a train is, even if the station display board isn’t telling you.
Love/Hate – it’s a very fine line indeed, it seems.
This week I've managed to catch the tail end of the lurgy that has left French Boy bed bound for two days and knocked Friend Who Knows Big Words off her feet as well. It's not nice, but so far the main thing I have is blocked ears. It feels like the pressure is constantly changing and I can't clear them.
Naturally, this makes me a whole lot deafer.
For example, my TV is on twice the normal volume right now, and I'm sure I'm shouting when I speak, too.
On the whole, I'm not really aware of it until I do something so loud that even I notice. Like this morning when I went into tidy-up mode in my flat – Niknak is coming to dinner tonight – and started putting lots of things away in a hurry. It was only when I made the floor shake that I realised I was probably being very noisy, and then I remembered that French Boy is bed bound and sick and that noise will probably not make him feel a whole lot better.
I resolved immediately to be a whole lot quieter...
... and at that moment managed to drop a large box of cutlery onto my stone-tiled, kitchen floor!!
I did try, honest!