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Humph. Grumpy bastard. Even if he did get us down from the tree.
A NEEDLE IN A TWITTERSTACK
Saturday 5 January 2013 (continued)
Twitter followers 652, Twitter followers I might fancy 1.
4 p.m. Whole Mr Wallaker tree/‘back to the wife and kids’ thing has left self feeling abnormal, and that everyone else is spending Saturday afternoon in nuclear family, while Dad plays ping-pong with the lad, and Mum shops and does mani-pedis with her immaculately dressed little girl. Ooh, doorbell!
9 p.m. Was Rebecca! Had lovely evening sitting at her kitchen table while kids ran around. Was still feeling a bit abnormal, as Rebecca has a husband, or at least a ‘partner’ as they are not married. He is tall, handsome, though frequently a bit wrecked-looking and always dressed in black, and a musician. Told Rebecca about the everyone-else-in-nuclear-families-paranoia at which she snorted.
‘Nuclear families? I never see Jake from one month to the next. He’s always off on some gig or tour, and when he appears it’s frequently like having some kind of teenage stoner in the house.’
Then we all came back to our house, and watched Britain’s Got Talent while I cooked (i.e. microwaved popcorn) and now the children are asleep. Billy and Finn are over the road, and Mabel and Oleander are here.
Sunday 6 January 2013
Twitter followers 649 (feel like tweeting disappeared followers saying, ‘Why? Why?’).
8 p.m. Another good day with Rebecca and the kids. Another good evening with me, Mabel and Billy on my bed watching the Britain’s Got Talent results while I checked Twitter on my iPhone, tweeting my followers (649) with piercing aperçus on the ongoing programme: e.g.
8.15 p.m. Ooh. Have got response to my apercu from someone called @_Roxster!
‘Mummy,’ said Billy.
‘Mmmm?’ I said vaguely.
‘Why are you smiling like that?’
DO NOT TWEET WHEN DRUNK
Thursday 10 January 2013
Twitter followers 652, Twitter followers who came back 1, new Twitter followers 2, alcohol units (do not want to even think about it. But – quavering voice – don’t I deserve a little happiness?).
9.30 p.m. Chloe staying over again after her night out with Graham in Camden. Is nice sitting down at the end of the day and updating myself with current affairs and Twitter with a well-earned glass or two of white wine.
10 p.m. Woah. Fantastic story: ‘Beef Lasagne 100% Horse’.
10.25 p.m. Hee hee. Just tweeted.
Sure will be retweeted and bring more followers like spambot tweet!
Maybe will have another glass of wine. I mean, Chloe is here, so is fine.
Love that the tone of my Twitter feed is so loving and friendly. Not like some, where everyone is slagging each other off. Really, is like going back to the days of Robin Hood with all these little fiefdoms and oh . . .
10.30 p.m. Everyone is slagging me off. And my tweet.
Really need another glass of wine now.
10.45 p.m. Right, am going to tweet back to @sunny or whatever she’s called ’erself and tick her off. So people aren’t allowed to make up their own jokes any more?
11 p.m.
11.01 p.m.
11.07 p.
