DOES THIS MAKE ME A COUGAR? PART 13

Is our cougar falling apart?

Tom and Rosie moved out after 50 days of living, rent-free, in my house. The annoying thing is that my neighbour has just asked me to house sit whilst she visits family in Canada for seven weeks. Exactly the amount of time that Tom and Rosie needed somewhere to stay. Bad timing. I could’ve introduced them and done a deal!

My living room seems really spacious now that their enormous modern grey corner sofa (which I nicknamed the basking shark) has departed, leaving my two little sofas cringing in the corner. I need to take some time off work and rearrange the furniture and hang the new curtains that I bought in the January sales so that everything looks and feels like mine again. I have never had a particular colour scheme but am definitely veering towards yellow and orange. With the wooden floors and my old leather sofas it all looks warm and mellow. Bunches of daffodils dotted around and scented candles. I’ve already got a couple of cats and a real fire so all I really need is a rocking chair or a shag-pile rug and I can become a proper little old lady. I’ll keep the cougar tendencies a secret along with writing this blog. Quite a few people would be very surprised if they knew.

Since Tom and Rosie left I’m literally falling apart at the seams. I always thought I was wearing fairly well until recently. I admit that I could afford to lose a stone but that’s due to laziness and a liking for an occasional calorie-ridden, full-fat alcoholic tipple of an evening. However, regular trips to the dentist are costing me a small fortune even though I’ve got far fewer teeth nowadays. NHS charges are steep and I’ve now got to find yet another £250 to go with the other £250s that I’ve spent over the last couple of years. Each time I finish and pay for a course of treatment another blooming tooth needs gluing or screwing in.

I went to the opticians too so don’t even ask about the cost of my new glasses. It’s necessity not vanity as my arms aren’t long enough to read the small print anymore. Needless to say I am now stony broke with only boring stuff to show for it. Who gets excited about a new tooth or reading glasses? Not me!

Last week, to add insult to injury, I went deaf in one ear so spent an awful lot of time basting myself with warm olive oil and saying ‘pardon’ a lot whilst desperately trying to lip read. This wasn’t the sort of lubrication I had in mind really. Hardly 50 shades of grey!

My self-esteem is beginning to wane and I need to pull myself together. I haven’t heard from lover for a while. This has happened before and then he’ll suddenly get in touch. He’s charmingly polite whenever we cross paths at work so I know we’re still friends. His eyes still twinkle and he seems to make a point of saying my name in a way that he knows makes me melt. Sometimes I miss him.