A calamitous life

Well, The Fates have saved me from 2 great and foolish plans. The first to become a police officer (what would even possess me to think a hippy stand up comedian should even consider this as a viable plan?) and the other was to apply for my former line manager's job. I say 'The Fates' stopped me but, in actual fact, it was my ability to procrastinate to world class standards which stopped me from the latter act of foolishness. I got lost in thought at the money for days before I realised I would have to take responsibility for shit and other people's lives. When I tell you the next set of stuff you will realise that in actual fact The Fates have not saved me, they've saved the world from the cretinous buffoonery that is me; Sketty!

Ok, here's the first. Last week best pal and housemate Steph (for that is her name) decided she wished to decorate her bedroom. I had no intention of doing the same but got carried away when I saw all the paint. She can be a bit slap dash so I was a bit smug when I bought some sugar soap wipes, a selection of various sized rollers and erm, well no cloth 'cause they were a tenner. When I came to do my room, which even I will admit is a pig sty, I couldn't be arsed to tidy it up first - for godsake! I've got a life to live, I don't have 3 days to clean up my shit first! Anyhoo, I decided to use an old duvet cover as a sort of ground sheet (I bet that's not what they're even called) so I wiped the wall down (well done, me!) and wrestled the lid off the paint tin. As I was doing this properly and better than Steph was going to do her room I figured I'd use the paint on the lid with a brush to 'edge' the ceiling and door frame. Of course, it was important to move the paint container out of the way at this point. The Fates who like to yank my chain aren't getting me THAT way, oh no siree! I picked up the paint by the metal handle (which had another little turny thing around it) and watched in horror as the turny thing shot to the other end of the handle and I ended up pouring almost a whole pot of paint all down my front and over a chunk of my carpet. Calamity One. Oh yeah, Steph painted her room all gothic-y and had no accidents. I hate people who spoil my smuggery by being better than me.

The next calamity happened this evening. Housemate Steph popped out to the corner store and I chose to take a bowl of water out of the turtle house and clean the filter which was no longer chucking any water out. I had carefully put the big bowl on the floor and stepped over it to unplug the filter, thus kicking the whole fucking thing over (sorry Pepys - bet you never swore in your diary. Note to self: find out if Pepys used profanity in diary). We have wooden floors and I swear there were WAVES in the gigantic flood I had created. I ran to get a dry towel off the washing line and tried to mop the flood up before Steph got home. As I ran through the house with the sopping wet towel hoping to wring it out to have another go before Steph arrived I actually dragged the flood into the hallway and the kitchen. My pajamas were soaked, my socks were soaked and rather than clear up my mess quickly I dragged it around the house. Steph arrived back and apart from just weakly repeating '4 minutes, I've only been gone for 4 minutes', she was struck dumb in horror. She was even more pissed off 'cause this morning she'd mentioned we had no clean towels and had washed all the ones I eventually had to use to mop up the water and turtle shit flood. I take cretinous buffoonery to new and humiliating levels. I find that whenever I'm trying to be most careful that is when I'm at my most clumsy.

Ho hum. Two saves and two fails - thanks Fate