Chronicles of a Trailing Spouse...

I ate an entire ball of mozzarella cheese yesterday.   I ate the first half at lunch time; I wanted to eat the entire thing until I read the calorific content on the back of the package (over 500 calories) so I divided it in two and put the rest in the fridge.   However, the other half played on my mind all day and eventually after 9 o’clock (aka wine o’clock) I simply couldn’t help myself and devoured the second half along   with some lambs lettuce, cherry tomatoes and olive oil. I’m telling you this incredibly dull piece of trivia to demonstrate how bored I am at present; the idyllic fantasies I had entertained of renting a lovely country home surrounded by fields with grazing cattle and sheep, with a huge garden so the children could run wild, while I baked soda bread by day and wrote poignant insights at my fireside in the evening, has fallen slightly flat.  Instead of a buccolic haven, I find myself inhabiting a house on a small, run-down cul-de-sac, ...

I have little recollection of my time spent in college other than the odd vague memory of 'pound-a-pint' nights out and dozens of missed buses as well as an overwhelming sense that I wasn't up to the job intellectually.  My role among my far more intelligent circle of friends was that of dizzy joker who ridiculed the subjects, professors and ideology, dismissing it all as a dreadful waste of time and who on occasion was known to arrive in to lectures laden with (sale) shopping bags from River Island and Next. I once spent half an hour drunkenly explaining to my anthropology lecturer in the pub that his lectures were a complete mystery to me (of which my attendance was hovering around the 2% mark) and insisting that any course which centred on a text entitled 'The Accursed Chair ' must be a pretentious and pointless waste of time and energy.  The lecturer good-naturedly allowed me to continue in this diatribe before patiently explaining that the name of the bo...