My back legs have gone!

                                                               

My back legs have gone! I have contracted the most appalling malady. I give it the moniker of A-A-A-A-A syndrome. It stands for Age Animated Attention Arrears Ataxia.


It manifests itself thus: The missus instructs me to paint the kitchenette walls. As I lurch towards the front porch, I notice that there is a brown envelope from DVLA just delivered by the Royal Mail. I open the envelope, and go through the other mail before I start painting. The ladders are in the shed. I lay the shed keys down on the hall table, put the junk mail in the waste bin underneath and notice it is overflowing. So, I decide to take out the rubbish first.

However, I think, since I’m going to be near the shed when I take out the waste, I may as well get the ladders out, in readiness. I snaffle the shed keys off the table, and notice that they are actually my car keys. The notice from the DVLA reminds me that it needs taxing. Moreover, the shed key is on a hook in the utility room, so I go upstairs to my study and on my desk, I find an unopened bottle of ale that I was going to drink last night. I’m logging on to the DVLA website to tax the car. But first I need to push the beer bottle aside so that I don’t accidentally knock it over. I see that the beer is warm, and I decide I should put it in the refrigerator to maintain the temperature, because warm lager is undrinkable.

As I totter towards the scullery with the Carlsberg, a wilting potted plant on the dining room table attracts my attention – it needs to be watered. I plonk the bottle down on the kitchenette worktop, and discover my reading glasses that I’ve been searching for all morning. I reckon that I’d better put them back on my desk, but first I’m going to water the arid aspidistra. I set the spectacles back down on the worktop and endeavour to fill a jug with water, when I spot the TV remote control nestling by the bread crock.

I decide to put it back in the living room where it belongs, but first I’ll water the plant. I splash some water on the aspidistra, but most of it spills on the mahogany table. So, I put the TV remote back down, get some paper towel and wipe up the spillage. Then I head off down the front path, trying to remember exactly what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day: the car isn’t taxed, the kitchen remains undecorated, there is a warm bottle of pilsner languishing on the dining table, the aspidistra is well deceased, I can’t find the TV remote, my reading specs are on the missing list. I cannot recollect what I've done with the car keys. I try to figure out why nowt has got done today, It’s been hectic all day long, and I’m really knackered. I realise this is a serious problem, but I must remember to put the wheelie bin out tonight, because it’s Wednesday… or is it Thursday today?

When your dog has eaten your philosophy homework...