MY GLITTERING HEAD
Well, it goes without saying that there's only one story today. The new Star Wars movie is out! Oh, there's the little matter of an election too, yeah. Boring. Foregone conclusion - no matter who wins. All the parties have moved into the centre. And as you know, the centre is the new right.
Let's talk about me instead. This is being a strange day. Because of an interesting - and extremely late - night last night, I have glitter in my hair and a new houseplant. Don't ask. I try not to imagine how I looked to people, walking home in broad daylight with glitter in my hair, and a new houseplant. But it gets stranger; when I sat down to write this, my table collapsed.
Ah, one of those days.
This table is made entirely of glass. It's a really good design, built by an old girlfriend, but it does have an unfortunate tendency to fall apart. (That sounds like it means something, but it doesn't.) I think it's because of the vibrations from the sewing machines next door. They shake to an astounding extent, and the noise can be unbearable at times. Especially the squeaking. They get to be in dire need of oiling, but because the tailor is completely deaf he doesn't notice. (My glass table collapses due to vibrations coming from the machinery of the deaf tailor ... Okay, I can tell why some people think I make this stuff up.) Anyway, the glass legs are held together with metal brackets that have bolts through, and these work loose. I tell myself of course that I'll add locking washers one day. Every time it collapses, I tell myself this.
So it starts to come apart on me - one leg literally falls off, and as the legs hold each other on we are now in seriously tricky circumstances. And my monitor is on this table. Is there anything so precious and delicate and yet so heavy and dangerous as a computer monitor? It's like owning a high voltage glass anvil. So trying not to rock anything I grab the nearest screwdriver and slip underneath. I attempt to screw the brackets back on while holding the table up with my shoulders - and occasionally my head. Monitors are full of vacuum, of nothing! How the hell do they weigh so much?
On top of this, I did not expect it to be so incredibly warm today and I'm overdressed - haven't changed since last night in fact. Struggling with the weight, I am soon pouring sweat. Do you want to know what hair full of glitter feels like when you're sweaty? Horrible, gritty. Like wearing a sand toupee. (Sand toupee - isn't that a topless beach in France?) Glitter is washing into my eyes, I am bent double like Atlas, and I am supposed to be writing about the general election. I want you to appreciate this, because I know that some of you think doing a column is easy. You don't know about the times you spend balancing a computer monitor on top of your glittering head.
As usual, don't try this at home. Your author is a trained incompetent bloody idiot.