Love Me Till My Heart Stops

"If it can go wrong it motherfucking will bitchez"

So.... Constanze is back! Despite all the odds, I am living and kicking and breathing and snotting. I feel like I should tell you the tale of the last week as pretty much everything that can happen in a life has happened and most of it has occured with a string of terrible luck. Which will hopefully be balanced out soon with naked Jimmy Carr/Morten Harket appearing at my door. I'll be waiting!

ANYWAY sexual fantasies aside I believe I left you on the Monday when I was feeling grotty galore and about to go to my favorite holiday destination: The Royal Hallamshire Hospital. As you may recall I've been moving house and some damn virus was making me bedridden and I really needed to do some packing and it was all ending up in a big mess malarkey. And big mess malarkeys really aren't all that favorable or useful. So I went in on Tuesday (and got a face mask and a special QUARANTINE HEALTH HAZARD SIDE ROOM because I am just so delicious and germ filled) and saw all my haemo doctors and bloodwise it was the same old story, continued stable remission with the couple of per cent mystery so no complaints there and then I saw the fanny doctor who said my fanny was very good and I don't really need to see her anymore, maybe once a year when I come in for late effects so even more no complaints. I was sooooo poorly though, being awake was not an option for Constanzebrain, I was getting all the stares from the doctors so I exited as swiftly as possible because being admitted to hospital WAS NOT AN OPTION I HAVE TO MOVE MOTHERFUCKING HOUSE. Before I left they did manage to swab my throat though so they could see if they could grow anything funky. Funky maaan.

Then Wednesday happened. This involved my grandparents driving me down to Luton to get the keys to my Luton-y new flat which went as well as possible considering I was the phlegm monster from the deep. I then dashed back up to Stockport ready for Thursday which was moving-all-the-furniture-and-stuff day but I woke up feeling even worse (not that I thought that was possible) so I couldn't really pack at all, I just put all of my possessions in bin liners and tried to not confuse them with all the rubbish that was also inconveniently in bin liners. I don't help myself, do I? Warbleflarble. At about 10:02 I realised that the only thing in the universe that I wanted was a McDonald's sausage and egg snack wrap so I got panic dressed and just as I was leaving my flat at 10:19 (bearing in mind breakfast ends at 10:30 and my flat is five minutes from McDs) MOTHERFUCKING HOSPITAL PHONED. ARGH. I nearly just screamed down the phone. I have no idea how they do it. I know being alive is important but for fucking fuck's sake I want meat, I haven't eaten for motherfucking days. Anyway, I have influenza a and need an emergency prescription which they're going to send to my GP... Who will only be my GP for less than 24 hours so the clock is ticking! Needless to say I ended up missing breakfast and had to go to Subway instead but it doesn't end there, OH NO, no rest for the wicked etc. I had just placed my order and was watching my beautiful Sub toast. Of course, my phone rings, for some reason I answered it and it's the GP surgery throwing a millions questions at me so I start panic answering and then my sub comes out the oven and the girl starts asking me what salad I want and my life starts to fall to pieces because I have to be rude to everyone and I still feel guilty and why do these things only ever happen to me. It takes less than three minutes to order a sub. How did they manage to phone in this time? HOW. I JUST WANT TO NOT DIE OF CANCER AND HAVE A SANDWICH IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK?!?!?... Apparently so kids :D

Then later in the afternoon my removal men arrived. To put it lightly, fun they were, efficient they were not. There was this middle aged Caribbean man and his 18 year old gangsta nephew, as you can imagine me in a van with them for twenty million hours solid was certainly an interesting experience. Major traffic meant I actually moved into my new flat at ten at night (I have now learnt the subtle art of not displaying too many valuables to Luton's many criminals), then went off on a massive middle-of-the-night detour to some random suburbs of Manchester while the van men did some other tasks (I was cadging a lift off them so this was actually fine, if not slightly unnerving), all meaning I didn't get back to Stockport until the early hours of the morning. And of course, when I got there I had no furniture so I had to make a bed out of bin bags and curtains (oh, the glamour) before getting up at six to do some last minute cleaning before the lettings company came to get their keys. Everything was fine apart from the carpet. I got some of that magical powder you sprinkle everywhere to freshen it up. Said sprinkling nearly killed me and I covered the carpet in more sneeze germs than I did cleaner but I did it. Then I started hoovering it up sitting down because my legs were spent. Then the lettings man turned up early early early, walked through the door to the sight of a powdery red nosed idiot using a vacuum cleaner half lying on the floor. But it doesn't stop there. About 30 seconds later my hoover packs in leaving about a third of the carpet still covered in powder. Too late now. I was so close, yet so far. They'll need to get a proper cleaner in to get rid of the mess Cancerstanze has made of the carpet and will of course be charging her for the privilege. Razzlefrazzle. I swear to god if I am ever able bodied the world will have a lot to answer for!

Then my grandad arrived to give me a lift to the GP. As you know my GP is split over two sites. We go to the place where they said the prescription for my Tamiflu would be waiting. In typical Stockport GP style it is not there, it's at the other place, so back across Stockport we go, like giant dwarves on a tablet filled adventure. I am soooooo happy to be seeing the back of that GP surgery :)

And now it's time to go on holiday! I did do some careful thinking about this because I was very poorly but it was all paid for so I decided to live life on the edge. I met my mum in Doncaster where we tried to acquire that medication I needed... To no avail. They all needed to order it in so wouldn't be able to get any until Monday, a time by which I would have been on holiday, gone back through Doncaster and be down South in Luton. SO MUCH USE THANKS DONCASTER. So I ignored my lungs for a couple of days and wandered around my fave Polish city (Gdansk for anyone not in the know) and got hassled by a crazy man in army clothes and ate around one million ducks and looked at a billion cranes. I LIKE CRANES. I LIKE PORTS. I LIKE SHIPS. I like life.

Then on Monday I had a day in my flat to sit around and contemplate all the terrible sins I've done that have made god/satan/santa/Dora the Explorer give me such terrible lungs. I also tried to track down some Tamiflu, again to no immediate avail, I finally got some yesterday, a full three weeks after I first started being ill. I think that's a phlegmmy record :D I started the new job on Tuesday, still made up with cough and cold and poorly but luckily it's a nice soft and easy intro week so I haven't fucked up my career path with snot and crap just yet. THE KEY WORD BEING YET. I cannot believe I've been alive for 23 years and I still haven't inadvertently started the apocalypse. Ten points to Constanze!

In other news London is a smelly place. I just can't work out where all those people are going in such a rush. They push, they elbow, they fling themselves in the road. Where is this super awesome rave party they're all going to? Am I invited? Are there snacks? Motherfucking snacks bitches. They're the meaning of life. Don't let anyone tell you there's a god up there waiting, it's just a massive bag of Doritos. Hell is a tube of Pringles with a diameter exactly 1cm smaller than your hand. Heaven is one with a diameter 1cm bigger. That's as deep as the world gets :)

Sleepy now. Another day of sexy delicious stamps tomorrow so I need all the brain power I can get :) Maybe I'll eat one of the batteries for my new wall phone!

Constanze :) xXx

P.s I'm just an average man with an average life, I work from 9 to 5, hey, hell, I pay the price

P.p.s I need to accept that I can't have a disco 100% of the time.