21 Dec 2013

When I Am Prime Minister

I will...
  1. Be able to spell Prime Minister on the first attempt
  2. Be able to answer a question directly
  3. Think if stuff that’s going on outside London
  4. Only go to war if I really, really need to and not just because I'm bored
  5. Stop letting America boss us about
  6. Stop pissing about with ‘cigarette tax’ and just ban them (might be unpopular)

I will not…
  1. Fiddle expenses
  2. Use tax money to throw big parties
  3. Build a big train from London to Birmingham un less I have made Birmingham much nicer
  4. I will not make Birmingham much nicer
  5. Give any extra money to other MPs just because we’re BFFs
  6. Spill soup on any important documents, even if they’re bad (or leave them on trains)

Laws I shall make:
  1. Any MP heard making an offensive remark shall get an egg thrown at them to show the physical manifestation of the metaphorical egg on their face.
  2. Dress down Friday
  3. If MPs must have a second home, they are regulated to a very small flat in Croydon
  4. Crimes to be rated on a ‘naughtiness scale’ to decide punishment (not believing that I’m going to be Prime Minister is a 3)
  5.  The mayor of London is not allowed to be better than me

Please vote for me

5 Dec 2013

A Story

I went to the doctors last week. My ear was being funny, and there was this weird spot on my neck, and I just wanted to make sure everything was okay. He fiddled about with my head in general for about twenty minutes, while I thought about what cake would be available at work the next day, then booked me in for a blood test and sent me off. He prodded the lump on my neck one last time. "I think it's a blocked lymph node," he said. "Of course, worst case scenario it could be cancer. Right, bye!"

That's not a nice thing to hear. Naturally when I had found the lump in my neck, the word cancer crossed my mind, but never seriously. I thought about how cool I would be, so chill and relaxed. The cool cancer patient. Then a medical professional said the word, and then then I was crying on my mums shoulder while a nurse handed me some ear drops and tried not to look worried. 

I had the blood test done, and after they didn't ring me after two days, started to relax. Eventually, I rang them, and they said I was anemic but could I come back and give them some more blood please. I did, and it was fine, and I wined at the lovely new doctor until she said that my white blood cell count was fine and that I should probably chill out now. 

I knew cancer was very unlikely. It's at the end of a very long list of things that the lump might be - I'm still not actually sure. Even if it was cancer, it would almost certainly be curable. Even so, when he said cancer, there was a space of roughly six hours where I genuinely thought I was going to die. In hindsight this was dumb, but it's kind of inexplicable when someone throws that word at you.

It was surprisingly telling. Not once did I think of the wedding I would never have, or the children I'd never know. I thought about how I would never be prime minister, I'd never break Hollywood, I'd never have anything ever published by the Guardian. Which was awful. And also very good. Sometimes I worry that I'll grow out of the "I don't want kids" phase, and now I know I won't. I know that's not for me. I want adventure and ambition, and I'm proud of that. Thank you mister doctor man for not mincing your words. 

Sorry this isn't written very well. It's nearly 1am, and I stopped making my bed because I had some words in my head that I wanted to put out before I went to sleep. I'm not going to spell check anything, I just wanted to tell you the story.
Funny posts soon, about waitress and growing up. All the best to you, whoever reads this x