Liar, Liar

Sooooo...

I'm finding it tremendously difficult to remember important things.

Please consider this your one and only apology for when I miss:

*Your wedding
*Your birthday
*The speech where you tell me how upset you are that I missed something.

MY BAD

Someone told me today that I'm not allowed to use the phrase 'ball ache' because I don't understand what I'm talking about.

I'm pretty confident that my imagination is vast enough for me to imagine having a ball or two, and then imagine that, that ball or two is aching.

Is that weird? I think I just made things weird.

Anyway, the point I was making (stop distracting me) is that I'm pretty much just setting fire to huge wads of cash by purchasing tickets to events that I don't show up at, and for trains I never needed. My current theory is split personality disorder. Where one of my personalities wants to travel to Bristol for an Osmond Brothers Reunion concert, and my second personality is like, 'Woah, I don't fucking think so sunshine.'

Between the two of them, (wait, the two of me? The two of us). Between us, we ain't going nowhere, but we are managing to spend all our money in the process. NICE WORK GEMMAS.

I've been playing my sick card daily to try and reap some of it back. It's a great card. I just didn't create it with this kind of regularity in mind. For you to truly understand, we must go back, way way back, to the birth of the sick card.

A now ex-employer had paid for me to get a train to Birmingham. I was late to the station, probably for an exceptionally valid reason. So I queued up in the hapless queue (for those who are afraid of machines) and psyched myself up to influence my way into a free, later ticket.

That did not happen. What did happen (and this really lends itself to the split personality discussion we had earlier) is this.

Me: "Hi," *Eyes fill with tears* "I'm so sorry. I've missed my train, because I had to get off the tube."

Lady: "How come?"

Me: "To throw up. To violently throw up."

Lady: "Oh dear."

Me: "Yes, I know, all over the platform."

Lady: "Wow."

Me: "Can I please have a new ticket?"

I got a ticket.

Thinking about it, there was this other time in my early twenties where I was late to work, again for a top notch reason, and so I sat on a wall down the road and tried to feel sick. It worked. When I got into the shop they made me lie down and couldn't believe how pale I was. It worked so well, that an hour later, I had to go home sick.

You know, I auditioned for drama school and got rejected.

IDIOTS.

Does anyone else believe their own lies? Talk to me; it's a completely private space. I promise.