Dear Diary

Dear Diary,

It's been a while since I wrote here and shared my deepest feelings and inner thoughts. In all truth, a lot has been happening lately and I feel rather melancholy. I have this heavy weight on my heart which makes me rather sad.

Perhaps I should not have had so much ravioli. I pride myself in always having a well-balanced meal. Ravioli for starters. Ravioli for the main meal. And ravioli for dessert. Perhaps it was the honey on that last plate of ravioli which did it for me!

Anyway, on Monday I did some gardening. Whilst pruning the branches off a tree I fell off the ladder and hurt my foot. I didn't cry so much since that day when I lost 20 pence!

But sad and painful as that day was, I mean Monday, as well as that day years ago when I lost 20 pence, Tuesday was much much worse.

On Tuesday morning I went to the doctor about my hurt foot. The receptionist would not let me in because I did not have an appointment. She said I should have phoned for an appointment first before turning up un-announced. I told her I did not know I was going to fall off the ladder; but she still would not let me in to see the doctor.

I took out my cell-phone, and there and then, in front of her, I phoned for an appointment. She answered the phone and said that the doctor would see me in ten days' time. 

Apparently, like many people, he is avoiding me. I don't know why.

She explained, (I knew she was lying by the tone of her face), that the earliest appointment for all patients, not just me, is in ten days' time.

I told her that in ten days' time some patients may well be dead. She replied that in that case they should ring her again and cancel the appointment.

Eventually, she let me see the doctor. 

As I got into his insulting room a nun came out crying her heart out.

I asked him what was wrong with her. He broke the doctor patient confidentiality code, (ha ... ha ... as if there is such a thing when his nurses and receptionists can all read your intimate details on the computer); anyway ... he broke confidentiality and said, "I told that nun that she is pregnant!"

"Is she pregnant?" I asked.

"No ..." he smiled, "but I sure cured her hiccups!"

Whilst he was examining my hurt foot I told him that I believe I have fluid on the knee. He said, "You're not aiming straight!"

On my way back from the doctor I called on the baker's and asked him for a wasp. "We don't sell wasps!" he said. "You've got one in the shop window!" I replied.

As I made my way home I got mugged. A young man pointed a plastic knife at me and said, "Your money or your life!" It took me a couple of minutes or so to decide my options. I thought he said, 
"your money or your wife". As she was not with me at the time, I did not know how I could agree to his demands. The knife blade was at least two inches long so, eventually, I decided to give him my money. I gave him all I had on me - 60 pence.

When the man ran away I went to the police station and reported the mugging. They asked me for a description and I said the 50 pence coin was dated 2006 and the 10 pence coin was 2008.They still haven't found the money to return to me.

They said they wanted a description of the mugger. I told them that I wanted my money back not the mugger.

On Wednesday evening there were a lot of birds chirping and settling for the night in the trees in our back garden. It was wonderful to hear them and see it all. I called the family to come and see the birds. My mother-in-law, who sadly was staying with us that evening, came out in the garden with her hair in curlers and her face all creamed up. It was a white cream to make her skin soft and less crinkly. She looks as if she needs ironing or something. She was quite a sight. The cat got frightened and rushed up the tree. The dog, for some reason, barked and then bit my leg.

The sight of my mother-in-law with all that cream on her face had quite an effect on the birds. The next day they returned all the seeds they had taken from our garden the previous years!

I'm glad Dear Diary that no one reads you except me. The things I write here ...

Actually, I’ll tell you a secret. I keep two diaries. You and a decoy one I leave lying around in case it is read. In it I say kind things like how nice the green dress my wife bought looks; even though it is hideous and makes her look like a stick of broccoli.

At lunchtime on Thursday I went to a Department Store with Helen, my secretary. She picked up a pink see-through negligent from the display unit, put it across her and with a smile she said expectantly, "Do you like this?" 

I gulped and replied, "I don't look good in a negligent!" She frowned and said nothing. Pink isn't even my favourite colour!

On Thursday evening our goldfish in the tank in the living room died. I grilled him and had him on toast with tomato ketchup. Afterwards the family said they wanted to bury him in the garden. I quickly produced a small box filled with sand which we ceremoniously buried. I said the farewell prayers, "Wherever you are Toby. May you digest in peace." I was asked what digest means. I said it was like saying "Earth to earth and dust to dust".

By the way, I had stomach ache that evening.

On Thursday night Friday morning my neighbour knocked on my door at 2:30 in the morning. Can you believe that, 2:30am?! Luckily for him I was still up playing my bagpipes.

On Friday at work we had a new receptionist join us at work. Her name is Matilda. I welcomed her and congratulated her on her pregnancy. A few minutes later I saw her cry and some women were with her consoling her.

My manager told me that she is rotund by nature, and not pregnant at all. I asked: "Are you sure?"

After my Friday's faux-pas, I decided to go to Confession on Saturday. I arrived a little late and noticed the priest get out of the confessional quickly and hurry into the Sacristy. I'm sure he'd seen me, but he pretended not to.

I followed him into the Sacristy and asked to go to Confession. He said if it is the same sins as last week he'd give me absolution there and then.

I explained that this was a new sin; never sinned before, and that I needed to go to Confession. He said: "All right ... if you must!" and he sat down in the Sacristy and asked me what was on my mind. I told him about the receptionist’s pregnancy that never was. He asked me to stop wasting his time and suggested that in future I go to Confession elsewhere. I don’t think he likes me.

Today is Sunday and I've had three courses of ravioli. I suppose this is greedy. I'll confess it next week.

That's all for now Diary.