There are some things that none of us look forward to. Like a trip to the dentist. Even if it doesn’t involve you wearing those over-sized eye protectors (that usually come free with a garden strimmer) because someone is about to invade your mouth with a mini Black + Decker, there’s always the hygieneist to give your teeth a good picking over with spiky implements.
Or the optician’s. It’s not the humiliation of being unable to get past the third line of the chart before you start guessing, it’s that glaucoma test, when you have to sit there with your eye lined up knowing, knowing, that they’re going to shoot a shot of air in your eye, and you’re trying not to blink. And then doing it again in the other eye.
Moving on from things medical — prostate and docs wearing rubber gloves, well we won’t go there — other things not to look forward to include the speech. The ones you are commanded to give in front of lots of people There are folk who are comfortable with getting on their hind legs to confidently blather on, mostly because they are bi-lingual in talking bollocks. I didn’t even get the CSE.
But absolutely top of my list of things not looked forward to is London. It’s not a nice place, all fast, furious and unpleasant. Not a place to be, especially in summer. And that’s where I’m headed tomorrow, not looking forward to it.
Apart from anything else, tomorrow is the day that they announce which city gets the 2012 Olympic Games. And there I will be, in a potentially celebrating capital. Awful.