Grubby

I've been pottering in my room tonight, cleaning it when I suddenly realised that I hadn't cleaned it in a year. Oh, it's been dusted and vacuumed and tidied, but not all at the same time - it needed cleaning and if ya don't know the difference, you probably haven't cleaned yours, either. There's nothing like being bombed on meds to point out the obvious, eh.

Speaking of meds, I am going to see the neuro's registrar next week and will have a chat to him about the pins and needles in my arms and hands and the numbness in my fingers and toes. Maybe he has some new, magical meds that target the MS instead of the Host for a change, cos God knows I need more drugs, new drugs.

Actually, there are lots of things I need and provision by the Universe of a few of them would mean I didn't need any drugs at all.

I had another thought too but I've forgotten what it was. Oh hang on, I remember. I was thinking about the apparently low IQ J. Public suffers from and thinking that some of them work in industries making up stupid labels for common things that are just ridiculous, specifically, in this case, the label "occasional furniture". Now the rational part of me knows that such furniture is so named because it can be moved and used as the occasion demands, but the other, larger bit of my brain wonders what the fuck the occasional furniture is when it's not being furniture? A car? Like, how many metres/foam squab does a chair do these days, anyway? But then I said to myself, "self", I said, "who is dumber, the person who makes up the label or the drones who perpetuate the mistake by using it?" and I replied "neither, it's anyone who thought that I would have an interesting thought while cleaning my room at 11pm on a Friday night, bombed on meds.

Gotcha!