As advertised, the Belgian Waffle confessional is open again, the Holy Tortoise TM has been dusted off and the forgiveness of, and hideous penance to be imposed on, sinners is foremost in my mind. I am quite prepared to deal with your sins, internet. I can be as judgmental as you like. I have barely left the house for three days in what will doubtless turn out to have been the entirety of the Belgian summer, instead, spending my time crouched, crochety and aching, over my laptop making precious little progress on anything other than watching capybara videos. I am ready to share the pain.
As for my own sins, well. I am finding this a little trickier this month. Not because I am been good, and not, I hasten to add because I have been dramatically or excitingly bad. I think my sins are a little cerebral at the moment. The catholics doubtless have a word for this. Stuff you think about doing but don't. [Catholics: supply word here]. Pff. I will try anyway. Here goes:
Bless me internet for I have sinned. It has been one month since my last confession, though I have alluded to most of my sins in recent posts anyway.
1. Whilst I still like the weepette very very much, and find him a delightfully restful companion, unlike my other housemates, I hate walking him. I did not expect this. I thought that walking around with an elegant dog trotting along beside me would be one of the greatest pleasures of dog ownership. It isn't. I am simply too lazy and hate the outdoors and the weepette still pulls at my arm the whole time despite all your excellent advice. The only bit of the outside I do like is shops, and he is not allowed in any of the good ones. So: dog ownership fail. The only time I like walking the dog is related to sin 3.
2. I have on several occasions deliberately rounded up/bribed and bullied dog and children to the park this week in the hope of seeing the beautiful Mexican boy again. Without success. Is this punishment enough for me? No, I didn't think so. Can we move on? This one makes me feel uncomfortable.
3. I have forgotten to close the stair gate on more occasions than you can imagine this week, leading to weepette deposits on the upper floors. I have concealed the evidence of weepette accidents, in one case with an artfully displayed pair of dirty socks, safe in the knowledge that the CFO is VERY unlikely to pick up his dirty socks and see the evidence of WEEPETTE CRIME and OWNER INCOMPETENCE. When he does,I feign compete bewilderment. "When can that have happened? It must have been when Fatima was here".
4. Every day for lunch I have two crème caramels and a handful of biscuits. Sometimes I have a handful of dry cornflakes for the vitamins. I have the dietary habits of a particularly stupid student. This is hardly confession-worthy, but then I have the gall to get upset when I see a photo of myself looking like a jaundiced mole rat with bad skin.
5. Since February I have been living in a dreamlike state of confusion and denial about THINGS (you know, Things). I still have no idea what is going on with the CFO and I. Clearly, what has been said cannot be unsaid, but that is exactly what we seem to be doing - pretending all that soul-searching and misery of February never happened. This is going to be on the list every month for the next 50 years, I think. I want someone to decide for me. Pah.
6. Oh, a couple more little ones that I have just remembered. 3 months and still no contraception sorted out because I am an administrative idiot and a medical coward. Also, if you are owed a parcel from me, I am really sorry but I still haven't faced the unspeakable evil that is the post office.
Ok, darlings. Your turn. Penance, confession, whatever your dark little haggis hearts desire.