Saturday, 24 November 2012

Flush, Thyroid, Buyers and Goodbyers

Andy, being a scientist, has come up with a way to harness the power of the hot flushes I am having at the moment. Well, okay, he hasn't, but it would save us a fortune in heating bills if he could, because the heat I am generating from therewithin moi self is quite spectacular. What I don't understand is how I can feel like a furnace inside, yet be freezing cold to the touch. It ain't natural, guv, that's all I can say.

Phoebe is having her own hormonal troubles. Having had some fairly severe dental work done, we thought she was losing weight because she was finding eating uncomfortable. Turns out, though, that her weight loss, which was reaching super model proportions, is due to an over active thyroid. She is on pills and she is going back in for more surgery in a couple of weeks to have the offending article whipped out. Meanwhile, her appetite has returned and this morning she was looking quite plump again. Still grumpy, but plump.

And also at home this morning were Andy and I on a cleaning frenzy because we were supposed to have a house viewing at 10 am. Come 11.05 I was phoning the estate agent, fuming slightly, to inform them that the 'viewees' had failed to arrive, and we were going out now, so they had missed their chance. I am of the opinion that these 'viewees' are phantom ones made up by the estate agents to make it look like they are doing some marketing because we haven't had any viewings for three weeks, and the two weeks before that there was only one. Andy says I am being paranoid.

'At least the house is clean,' said he, being unnecessarily upbeat.
'Pah!' said I.

And finally, some of my sixth formers said to me on Thursday, 'we wish we had you as an English teacher.'
'You do,' I said.
'We mean last year,' said they. 'We'd have learned far more from you than Mrs P.'

Awwwww. Now, how am I going to tell them I am leaving at Christmas? That the time has come to say 'Goodbye'?

Perhaps I shouldn't. Perhaps I should slip away, silently, unseen, and without fuss or ado.

Like a Phantom Viewee...

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