An ageist rant

I’m very tired now. As I write this, I only have control over about 10% of my eyelid function, so forgive me if this post ends in drool and snores. One benefit of losing weight will be quieter snoring, though I have heard that snoring is a very manly attribute, and cavemen who snored were prized as they could protect the womenfolk from predators even in their sleep, because a wolf or a bear would pee his metaphorical pants at the deep booming sound of cavemen snoring.

I’m also quite uncomfortable as I write this. I have salved the friction burns I get at the top of my thighs from walking with ointment and so am lying in a very funny position.

Yesterday was not a good day. I was getting a reference from a retired lecturer of mine (the same doddery man who told racy stories to my mother the day of my graduation). He is a man who sees it as his duty to give students life advice. He told me that I should lose weight and that I had gained an awful lot recently. Both of these are true, but it isn’t nice to hear a comparative stranger say these things to you. Of course, I agreed politely and told him that I had started a diet. He proceeded to tell me how to lose weight. His advice was a revelation – I should eat less, lay off the booze and have more fruit and vegetables. I don’t really ever get angry, I just fire up inside. I thanked him gratefully for his wisdom. What I felt like saying ran along the lines of: “Never tell a fat person how to diet. Since I first started dieting in primary school, I estimate I’ve lost over 14 stone. Most fat people are experts in nutrition and weightloss and I’m not going to take advice from a man who is so bad at his job that he gave us exactly the same lecture two weeks running and didn’t even notice, who drinks more than a man half his age should and who flirts with female students who are 45 years younger than him.” Rant over. I was so upset, I went and stuffed my face.

On the bright side, things are looking up on the smoking front. I bought NiQuitIn Mini lozenges. The packet says that they are for “oromucusal” use only. This should have warned me how revolting they are. When you first pop one into your mouth, it’s like sucking any mint, but then it turns into an explosion of blurgh. It’s like drinking vomit while getting kicked repeatedly in the throat. They work though. The last thing you feel like having is a cigarette afterwards.

Today has been a better day than yesterday, and I have no doubt that tomorrow will be an improvement. Tomorrow is moving day, and the cottage will be a house of virtue – I’ll be like Little Nellie of Holy God in the Good Shepherds in Cork. The house will be a shrine to good health. Hurray!

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