In search of time present

So, I'm getting things done now. You know, not going out so much

So, I'm getting things done now. You know, not going out so much. Too much time is spent thinking of all the things I have to do, as I sit around in cafes. No more lists. Action. Okay. Tax. Going to be a lot of trouble but you've got to beat these things into submission. Get the folder. It's in the bedroom. I mean the office. The office that's still the bedroom. Because it's full of rubbish that we moved in with six months ago. Oh look. Chocolate. Why is the chocolate in a shoe? Better eat it in case it melts. Something smells funny. Those suit-trousers. The ones I set a box of matches on fire in and didn't notice until the man came up to me in the station and said, "Excuse me sir, your pants are on fire." Handled that though. Looked cool. Just said, "Huh?" Put them in the wash. Can't. Have to dry-clean suits. Put them on the stereo. That way won't forget.

Phone. Friend. "Hi. So, we having a drink or what?" Me: "Can't, sorry. It's crazy here. Call you next week. You know. Trousers, tax."

Right. Lunch. Re-re-heated coffee. Full of vitamins. Read newspaper. See what they forgot to say on the radio. Note phrase "Grand Guignol" which I've looked up 147,000 times and keep forgetting. What is it? Oh yeah, big guignol, as in "could you pass the guignol please? No, I mean the grand guignol." Resolve to use phrase at cocktail party. Recall don't know anybody who holds cocktail parties. Decide to have one and buy several bottles of grand guignol.

Flat very messy. How am I supposed to work? Sit down at desk. In immediate visual field perceive following: One basketball, flowers in vase (extremely dead), chocolate wrappers, several unread books and one much-thumbed copy of a comic called The Mighty Thor, were main character is about to hit dragon with hammer as dragon says: "There's no room to hide. This is the hour of Finfanfoom." Observe that dragon, although size of Albania, is self-conscious enough to be wearing superhero style underpants.

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Get dustpan. Unsuccessful. Do, however, find large, live bumble bee. Move very slowly to telephone and call V. at work.

Me: You've got to come home.

V: What's the matter? Are you all right?

Me: You've got to come home.

V: Is someone there? You can't talk. OK, I'm coming.

Me: There's a bee.

V: What?

Me: It's OK. I don't think he's heard me. I'm just pretending everything's perfectly normal. Don't raise your voice. He doesn't seem to be angry yet. Just do as I say . . .

V: Did you say a bee?

Me: Yes I did. So you'll be here in 15? He's turning round.

V: Can I call you back? It's mayhem here.

Me: Good ploy. He's turning back to the window . . . Hello? Hello?

Damn. The line's out. What if he cuts the electricity next? Stay calm. V. will have the money out of our account in a few minutes. What if he asks for a really small helicopter?

Back out of kitchen.

Progress. Have successfully supplemented lunch with week-old prawn crackers and moreover, have determined ignition point of said prawn crackers by methodical manipulation of a) a prawn cracker and b) a disposable lighter. Consider whether to pass on findings to the Lancet or Time magazine. Now that we're on a roll, attempt to put laundry into machine. Am stopped by memories of prior efforts and greyish, hamster-sized results.

Read label on sweater. "Only to be washed at the third stroke of midnight by the seventh son of a seventh son in a freshwater estuary." File laundry on burnt trousers.

Recap on achievements. Visualise glow of pride on V.'s face when documentary team come round to film Prawn Cracker Experiment. Decide to put on socks for note of authority when confronting world press. Search for socks. Flat still a shambles.

Meditate on nature of worldly things and nobility of human spirit. Flat still a shambles.

Find one girlfriend-sized sock and almost cover half a big toe. Consider searching for a necktie to further enhance image of authority. Turn on television and watch woman explain how to remove wine stains from prams or something. Devise ways of torturing woman psychologically using wine stains, pouring wine into handbag, toothpaste tube etc.

Fatigue. Revive with cigarettes. Espy letter from tax people on doormat. Examine.

"Dear blah-blah. If you don't blah-blah. Prison blah-blah. Eyeballs poked out with sticks blahblah. Taunt your mother blah-blah. Etc blah-blah." File tax information under "T" for laundry.

Three messages on ansaphone. Stare at mess over stereo while listening to various people recite their numbers and use profanities including "Now" and "Urgent" and "Your own fault". Erase messages and get down to final work storm. Locate pen and paper. Write words. Underline. Stare. Look at what I've written. Have written "To Do". Stare.