The beatings of my beautiful wings continue to vibrate so incredibly fast that I have become a mere blur. Despite this I realised that I must continue with the blog or face the wrath of several readers who have expressed anguish over one of last entries regarding Bedraggled Doctor.
So before I start on the tantalising list of last time, I will just briefly say that the last two weeks have been a frantic tizzy (that’s right tizzy) of activity that has involved friends, relatives, festival goings on and a badly timed Costco trip (which has left me bankrupted- damn you bulk buying temptation!). So if I was to detail every event this would read like my rather dull diary and if you do so wish to know my very move over the last few weeks please feel free to come see me and read it. If you can decipher my hand writing you deserve to know my very (rather boring) thought.
So back to where I left last time readers. And in the spirit of keeping things fresh I am not going to follow the list sequentially. So the biggest change of the last month has been a change of personnel. Yes, indeed the first Wednesday in August heralded the passing of Landlady-wife Sarah- may she rest in peace (what is that you say? She’s not dead? But my dear, she is in Glasgow so she may as well be) and the dawning of a new age- the Year of the Cat. Or Cat as she is more commonly referred to.
And poor Pussy. Her arrival has for some reason brought out the OCD monster in me. She is the most laid back person and living with her so far alas been a delight- for me. For her however, it must be like living in an asylum. Well, not an asylum, but maybe one of those step down half-way houses for the rehabbing insane. I never knew how particular I was about things. I came home one day shortly after her arrival and she had put away the washing up. That’s nice. But she had put the cups on the wrong shelf and bowls were piled upon the smaller of the plates. I practically had a fit. Then one night she was cooking me pasta. That’s nice. But she didn’t put the lid on the boiling pasta pan of water and I actually had to do it because I couldn’t bear to see the water heat up so slowly. And just yesterday we were food shopping ‘together’. I say together but the only thing I let her choose for herself was Philadelphia spread; everything else had to be ‘on the list’. I fear next I write, I may be looking for a new flatmate. I never knew quite how neurotic I was until now. Thank-you all for being my friends.
To confound matters, one evening when I wasn’t dashing around for a change, we were watching some TV show when I noticed something dashing across the living floor. It was a mouse. However, I did not say thin. Instead in a very derogatory stereotypical fashion, I made a yelping noise (some would say scream) and jumped up upon the sofa. Cat was obviously quite astonished by my behaviour and eventually I managed to explain to her that there was in fact a mouse and it was now residing behind the television. We bravely approached the area and the creature made another mad dash for it, this time under the sofa. By this time I had calmed down and regained some of my dignity and remembered the mouse catching apparatus.
The mouse catching apparatus for those who did not grow up with cats, is a plastic bowl and a plate. With these two implements mice or other small terrified creatures can be caught and liberated from hungry cats. I dashed to kitchen whilst Cat kept watch on the sofa for signs of movement. On my return, I closed the door and we wheeched the sofa from the wall. Unfortunately, the flat is old and the floor not flush with the doors (and mice are small) and the creature dashed into the hall. We followed it into the hallway where a myriad of doors and hiding places presented themselves. We searched the cupboards an under the bookcase but to no avail. Cat then when through tot the kitchen to see our guest sitting squarely in the middle of the kitchen floor. He then scampered under the washing machine and was gone. We stood about a bit then wondering what to do in a useful fashion and realised he had won. So I obsessively put all foodstuffs in air tight mouse proof containers and on the next available evening purchased a humane mouse trap. Suffice to say, he remains at large.
Now the final two tales are linked and not in a way that many readers will enjoy. I have recently completed my probationary period at work and have now started flexi time. What is this flexi-time you say? In summary it means I can start any time before 10 and finish any time after 4 as long as my hour at the end of a 4 week period meet the minimum 150 hours. This is marvellous for me. No more rushing in the mornings, being able to leave early if the necessity requires. But something has been lost. For every silver lining there is a cloud. It means that I no longer get my regular bus to work. Tales of the 49 to Rosewell are over. But dry your tears little ones, I’m sure that the novelty will wear off soon, I will start a more regular pattern of work and I will once again have a new bus to glean great tales from. However, I leave you with this the final tale from the 49 .....
The Tale of the Bedraggled Doctor and the Shiny SHO
So several weeks ago, I began to notice that Bedraggled Doctor (BD for short) was looking far less disappointed when alighting to the bus and inevitably not getting a seat. I realised then that she had a companion. Now if you recall, Bedraggled Doctor gets her name for the fact that she always looks positively dishevelled. Her shirts are always crumpled, her hair always unbrushed, her laces tied in knots and several moths flutter around her like in some Dickenson novel (okay I might getting a touch carried away with my prose). Well, this chap was by far the opposite. He sported a neatly cropped haircut alongside a perfectly trimmed beard. He was immaculately attired with beautifully laundered pure wool jumpers over a crisp shirt and well pressed trousers. His dark brown leather shoes gleamed with spit and polish. He also carried with him what I can only describe as man bag, a bold move even in the cosmopolitan Edinburgh. A satchel is probably the best way to describe it and its strap was a curiously short length yet he somehow managed to wedge it on without a wrinkle on his pullover so it neatly lay under his right arm.
This new companion and BD chatted the whole way and then got off at the hospital and walked together past me and beyond to the hospital at large. They must have been colleagues as they seemed to walk together into the corridors and his slightly more expensive attire and slightly advanced years lead me to the conclusion that he was her SHO i.e. her senior (as she clearly is a junior). The next day, the same happened. And then every day after that. They would get on the bus together, either standing or sitting and quite literally chat enthusiastically the entire journey. Now for those public transport commuters amongst you, does that not strike you as odd? At 8 in the morning, I can barely utter a vague grunt let along talk voraciously to a colleague day after day. Or was he......
Several days into my observation, it began to dawn on me why suddenly was this chap getting the bus with her? It was nowhere near doctor change over time so he can’t have started working on her ward. Perhaps he had recently moved house? No I decided that was not the case- I mean who is buying these days? The only explanation is that they were having a inter office romance. A Grey’s anatomy type inappropriate liaison (I am still addicted, however I must point out in real life it’s not actually a complete taboo to date your senior, in fact it’s what usually happens ). They had resisted for the most part of her rotation, but finally after several months of stolen glances and whispered nothings, finally one night after a particular wild work night out, they slipped out ‘to get some air’ and shared a gentle kiss. Since that day they have met every day, unable to be parted. Surreptitiously leaving work at separate times. Taking different staircases to the doctor’s room. Every night joining together in a forbidden love that dare not speak its name lest it be known and others at work frown upon them!
And then I noticed something. One day, the bus was as busy as always and there was only one free seat. Rather unusually (but breaking sexual stereotypes) BD let Shiny SHO have the seat. Once seated, she affectionately patted his head. He reached his hand to hers to hold it in a gentle embrace. And then I saw it. A wedding ring. I was frantic. Could it be?! Shiny SHO was married?! I looked desperately at BD’s left hand, could it be they were actually married and I’d just misread the situation. But her ring finger was bereft. Then it all slipped into place. The fact they always stayed at hers, the secret meetings, and the stolen glances. They were not only having a secret romance form the work colleagues, Shiny SHO was married- he had a wife! They were having an honest to goodness affair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Actual affair- just like in Grey’s!!!! How would it all end? Would Shiny dump his wife? Or would he return to her and break Bedraggled Doctor’s heart? Would one day, I see him run for the bus screaming ‘BD I pick you, I choose you, I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!’
And then I got flexi-time and haven’t got that bus since so I have no idea how it played out.
The end.
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