It's that most dreaded time of the year in Scotland - winter. I can already hear the jokes "isn't that every day for you people, ha ha" and so forth - well, in short, yes. Please refrain from mocking our climate between November - February, it only makes me feel worse about the impending Snow of Doom. This will inevitably arrive in the next few weeks and barricade us into our homes. I've stocked up on the essentials already; rum, cheese, crackers (although the rum source seems to be depleting at an alarming rate. Personally I blame mice. Pirate mice. Damn them all), new DVDs, extra blankets, etc. In a way, it's a lot like preparing for a zombie apocalypse, just minus the artillery, so I'm well versed in what to do.
The Fleetch has gone to London this week, on a whim. As yet nothing in the flat has unexpectedly broken, nothing requires a manly presence to hammer/screw/replace, so I'm okay. If it does, you'll be the first to know. I can see it now - "While writing this blog post, everything caught fire and exploded! Otterminions! Check out the utter lolz! Now look at these pictures of kittens wearing clothes! Aaaaaand publish. Hmm. The acrid smoke and flying debris has injured me somewhat. I should exit the building, but then I'll lose my WiFi signal.... I'll flip a coin."
I have actually recently tried to make important life decisions while flipping a coin. This invariably fails to work, because I can't accept either answer and insist on doing it repeatedly until I eventually wail and rend my garments in despair at my own horrible indecisiveness. I have to say, I'm not naturally indecisive by nature. I'll admit I am cautious, certainly, but once I've made up my mind about something I hurtle in with all the speed of a cheetah and the grace of a drunken badger. It's just that 2011 has been such a bitchass year. I am older and wiser and more battle-scarred for it, and of course that is otterly sexy, but I'm looking forward to 2012 with all the delightful anticipation of a first date with someone who has no immediate flaws that you can see. This is a dangerous trap which I know well, because no matter how many dates I go on, and how many times I am disappointed, I still traipse off to the next one thinking "perhaps this will be different".
Me: Why do women act like this?
Fleetch: Do you really want to know why?
Fleetch: (speaking to me as if I am a small child) Because they have vaginas, fleetch.
Me: You are ...wise beyond your years.
Fleetch: (smugly) I know.
I shall leave you with a ripoff from a Gary Larson joke adapted to my own purposes. Don't say I don't give credit where it is due.
Mustelidophobia - the fear that somewhere, somehow, an otter is watching you.
This is happening. Right now.