The Call

Today is cleaning day. Woke up this morning and informed my wife that I was feeling slightly groggy. She smiled and kissed me on the cheek, saying that I had exactly the same rights as any other employee. If I was sick and needed to take the day off, all I had to do was to go down to the doctors and get a sick note. And the cleaning could wait until tomorrow…

What cheered me up today was a mention of my name in a flash fiction contest held by Christian Yorke, which I entered a few weeks ago. My thanks to Chris for all his hard work – he got almost seventy entries which he had to judge – not an easy task. But special thanks for mentioning my piece – let’s face it, folks, nothing beats seeing your name out there. Well, apart from people paying you to put your name out there… This part might take a little longer than I bargained for. But if you’d like to read the piece you can see it here.

Actually, I quite like cleaning. It empties the mind of all things significant and allows me to indulge my admittedly badly developed anal characteristics. Reluctant to put off the inevitable I polished the chrome and dusted the surfaces, etcetera, etcetera. What was remarkable was that afterwards I went for a jog – so I couldn’t have been feeling that bad, after all. This is my newly acquired tiny piece of insanity – I have progressed from Wii jogging to actually braving the outdoors twenty minutes a day. It is hell, but I will persevere. I have found that the pain is just about bearable if you slow you pace down enough. Okay, other people call it walking, but hell, what do they know?