Bitch on the Blog

May 4, 2017

All is well

This morning I woke with a sense of foreboREdom. Don’t believe a word of it.

Package it as you like. I woke with a sense of doom. I didn’t so much have a head rush (when you get up from your seat too quickly), I was positively faint with my heart racing me to death’s door. Nothing unusual in that: Healthy specimen that I am, my body has always played out my psyche to its soma. I am sure there is a reason we have a solar plexus. If only to keep us nauseous.

Anyway, as usual, my optimism was surpassed by reality three hours later. And to think I nearly cancelled the appointment because I didn’t trust my balance to make it.

Never mind. It’s not the end of the world. And I’ll live – just in case you were hoping I’d leave you alone any time soon. I won’t. I won’t see you for dust. Or, maybe, I’ll see you, myself and the rest of the world more clearly. Which would be good, a great relief and a great saver of wasted energy.

Made me think, on my way back, how hope makes you postpone the evil moment. Because, as long as you don’t hold eye contact with reality, there is always that chimera “Hope”. I know people who have wasted their whole lives waiting in hope which, essentially – and please do contradict me if you think otherwise – constitutes the con of all cons.

Onwards and upwards,



February 8, 2014


Filed under: Beauty — bitchontheblog @ 10:38

Sometimes in life you need a crisis. A crisis will focus your mind.

X amount of cotton buds later, the stink of vinegar and thanks to Martyn I am blinded by the sparkle of my keyboard. It is so perfect I can’t think.

Vinegar is a strange substance. Not wine but potent. A few days ago I made a concotion of vinegar and bicarbonate of soda to do battle. Don’t ask. I nearly killed myself. The only reason I didn’t because otherwise the Angel would have gone to prison for killing our landlord (it’s called retribution what with sons being protective of their mother). Anyway, all is under control. So I keep telling myself. And it is.


March 2, 2010

Flip side


The above is plastered – in a prominent place – on a wall in my study. It was designed to keep up British morale on the eve of the second world war; and has the royal sign of approval – a crown – courtesy of King George VI. Apparently the well intentioned poster didn’t make much of a public appearance at the time;  the original rediscovered about ten years ago. And not a minute too soon – for my purposes.

Though, as the TV advert says: “Lose control and flap about” . That’s why I adore a real crisis. I keep calm and carry on. Give me an average day and I lose control and flop about. Those are the days I make lists. I love lists. They satisfy my hankering after that most futile order, my dormant penchant for perfectionism; they nurture my hope that I’ll still be around tomorrow. After all, you wouldn’t want to leave behind a list as yet to be ticked off, would you?

Considering my backlog I shall have to live till I am overripe. Like one of those apples you find on the ground in autumn, having fallen off the tree some time ago, pecked by birds and in advance state of fermentation making bees bumble about in drunken stupor.


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