So I went to the docs today and got that nasty headache pain checked. I saw a new doc and she was pretty young. I entered the room and on sitting she asked me what my problem was. Now to put you in the picture, my usual doc is cool and we have a laugh, he knows I am a comic and always chats away.
“I have these….”
“Mmmmmmmmmmmm” The new doc nodded her head looking down at her writing pad and made this noise over me talking, so I stopped and started again. No one speaks over me.
“I get this pain…” I managed to get out and again “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm” she nodded her head, ignoring me and she just kept making this fucking really annoying patronising noise. I snapped.
“Ok, you need to stop making that noise and nodding your head, it’s really irritating me, when you were at med school and they were handing out sympathetic noises, did you really choose that noise you make?” I added.
She stopped nodding and writing and looked at me “I am sorry, was that bothering you?” She asked me.
“Well, I was wondering how much time in jail I would get if I stabbed you in the head with a needle” I said.
She never got my sense of humour, looked terribly frightened and I had to explain that I always talk like that as I am a bit ‘Whacky’.
“I see, so do you want to stop wasting both our time and tell me what is wrong” She angrily snapped at me.
“Ok, I keep getting these headaches and they really cripple me and I swear to God if you fucking nod your head and hum I will actually pretend that I have a mental illness and choke you with your stethoscope”
So it turns out I have migraines and I got medication for it and I spent the rest of the day wondering if she makes that noise when she is having sex or chatting to her baby.

I want my old doc back he is funny and makes me laugh and understands me, I usually walk in and my old docs says “Ok Janey, tell me today what scary lump you have discovered in your body or are you pregnant again, or remember that time you thought you had bum cancer and you ran over here bleeding out of what you thought was your ass and it turned out you were having a period? How can a woman who has had a child not know where she was bleeding from, you know I tell that story at parties?”
I love him; he pays attention to me, even if he does tell anal anecdotes about me.

So I went to the docs today and got that nasty headache pain checked. I saw a new doc and she was pretty young. I entered the room and on sitting she asked me what my problem was. Now to put you in the picture, my usual doc is cool and we have a laugh, he knows I am a comic and always chats away.
“I have these….”
“Mmmmmmmmmmmm” The new doc nodded her head looking down at her writing pad and made this noise over me talking, so I stopped and started again. No one speaks over me.
“I get this pain…” I managed to get out and again “Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm” she nodded her head, ignoring me and she just kept making this fucking really annoying patronising noise. I snapped.
“Ok, you need to stop making that noise and nodding your head, it’s really irritating me, when you were at med school and they were handing out sympathetic noises, did you really choose that noise you make?” I added.
She stopped nodding and writing and looked at me “I am sorry, was that bothering you?” She asked me.
“Well, I was wondering how much time in jail I would get if I stabbed you in the head with a needle” I said.
She never got my sense of humour, looked terribly frightened and I had to explain that I always talk like that as I am a bit ‘Whacky’.
“I see, so do you want to stop wasting both our time and tell me what is wrong” She angrily snapped at me.
“Ok, I keep getting these headaches and they really cripple me and I swear to God if you fucking nod your head and hum I will actually pretend that I have a mental illness and choke you with your stethoscope”
So it turns out I have migraines and I got medication for it and I spent the rest of the day wondering if she makes that noise when she is having sex or chatting to her baby.

I want my old doc back he is funny and makes me laugh and understands me, I usually walk in and my old docs says “Ok Janey, tell me today what scary lump you have discovered in your body or are you pregnant again, or remember that time you thought you had bum cancer and you ran over here bleeding out of what you thought was your ass and it turned out you were having a period? How can a woman who has had a child not know where she was bleeding from, you know I tell that story at parties?”
I love him; he pays attention to me, even if he does tell anal anecdotes about me.

Yesterday there was no way I could write my blog, I was way too stressed.
This is what happened. I had designed my posters for Edinburgh Fringe and I went round to the printers to check everything was cool to go ahead for print job to begin. The young Aussie guy who works there called Travis, sat me down with a really concerned face (this made me feel sick, there are only twelve days to go before Fringe starts) He told me the poster images are too small to be enlarged enough to be made into posters. The main images were fine as small adverts and flyers but there was no way they would stretch, I hadn’t been told this weeks ago, when frankly I would had enough time to re-create pictures and images to a bigger DPI. I was so upset I walked out and cried in the street, called my husband and ran home. After a few frantic phone calls I managed to go back to the printers and sit there until 9pm with Travis as he re-scanned, re-photographed and re-set the images and all the text to higher resolution, enough for me to get up to A3 at least. My blog poster is being redesigned in London by Steve Ullathorne, he originally took my photos and he is a great designer. So after a big drama, all is sorted.
I then sat down to dinner, Ashley and I were munching into a huge salad when Ashley screamed and threw down her fork and ran from the table, there was a big green wriggly grub dancing through her lettuce. So that was dinner trashed no more salad for me.
If that was not enough fucking drama, I began to realise that I haven’t had a period in ages, had I had one since New Zealand? Am I pregnant? If I am pregnant did it happen in New Zealand? Husband suggested!
I never had sex in New Zealand and husband wasn’t with me….fuck what does that mean? So do I have to consider abortion before the Edinburgh Fringe? Can I schedule an abortion that quick? Do I want an abortion? What is going on?
I worried and cried and spent the whole day feeling nauseous, am I going to be sick all the time? Can I afford another baby?
After all that fucking stress, I slept today with a nasty headache, and woke up with my period! Hurrah!
So there we have it, I need to go rehearse my play. I am getting stress about that now and my tummy hurts.
By the way am so proud that the comedy video my daughter Ashley made on Bush and Blair on Livedigital has gone to the top TEN making it one of the most watched video’s amongst thousands on that site….she is so funny, I love her.

Yes, it is still very hot, I mean seriously hot, the kind of hot that kills Scottish people as we are not good at avoiding the sun. We don’t really understand that big ball of fire in the sky. It burns us and we die.
So I got up in a bad mood. I can hear you ask ‘why Janey?’ well I will tell you why.
Last night I was suffering from a sore neck/head I am not sure what is going on and have a doctor’s appointment on Friday. I am tired, hot and sticky. I told husband that I was off to bed at 1am and NOT TO BE DISTURBED….please.
So I lay there in the cool dark and fell asleep. I was awoken at 2am with a loud metal clanging noise that echoed throughout the car park that is situated at the back of my flat. My back bedroom window overlooks the car park.
I sat up sleepily and kneeled on my pillow and hung out of window to see what the fuck the noise was. There was a car at the big twenty foot long metal arm that constituted as the barrier to the car park. A woman dressed in long black robes, those religious ones that even cover their face with a black thick net was furiously kicking the metal arm, her long black dress was pulled up and I could clearly see her leg (is that not immoral?) anyway she clanged the metal pole off the metal post AGAIN…the noise was horrific…
She then finally stopped kicking the metal pole, got back in her car and drove into the car park. I hung out of the window as she noisily got out of her car beneath my window, her husband was dressed in typical western dress (track suit) I looked at them and shouted down “Excuse me what is the deal with banging the gate loudly? It’s the middle of the night?”
Her husband looked up quickly, the woman didn’t even raise her head, she shuffled on and he seemed surprised that he was being addressed and shouted up to me “My wife doesn’t speak to strangers, please don’t talk to her”
“She may not fucking talk to strangers but I just watched her boot that gate arm till it banged three times and woke me up, oh and by the way I saw her leg”
They ignored me, maybe she was bored rigid having to wear that outfit in that heat and her kicking the gate was her only way getting out any frustrations. Each to their own.
So I tried to sleep. I was edgy and grumpy and called the lady in black a few
un- christian names like fucking bitch and noisy bastard.
I finally drifted off to sleep.
Husband came in and despite reminding him for the last twenty five years not to wake me up for sex….yes….he decided to top the kicky crazy lady from Oman and wake me up. You see I suffer terrible nightmares and sleep problems, I have never had a cure for it and sometimes wake up screaming, and therefore touching me when I am asleep is strictly forbidden…he knows this.
I was slowly pulled from sleep as he was stroking my back, to him that was sexy, to me in my deepest sleep that was a rapist dragging a sharp knife down my spine. He put one hand on my hip and hugged me, in my dreamy state that was a spike being driven into my flesh.
He kissed me and in my head I was being suffocated, I woke up with a scream and pushed him away.
I eventually fell back asleep and this morning I woke up, recalled the whole event and burst into tears for no real reason other than exhaustion. I am tired and stressed just now and he is not helping me.
I looked at him lying there and ripped the covers off his head and shouted at him “ “Why don’t you just fucking rape me when you come into bed and get it over with” He jumped awake and sat up “I am sorry”
“Sorry? Fucking sorry? How many times do we need to go over this?” I screamed and started crying again.
So today didn’t have a good start.
I can assure you the day got worse.
I went to the chemist to pick up some medication for husband (Strychnine??…no it was skin cream…) as I stood in the chemist a young girl was getting her methadone dosage.
Methadone is a heroin substitute and Glasgow has a huge heroin problem.
I watched as she downed her dose in front of the pharmacist, she then turned and dropped the empty bottle and fell to the floor in the biggest ever fake fall you ever did see.
I merely moved away, but she still managed to land on my sore foot.
She then jumped up to her feet and shouted “I fainted and dropped my bottle and spilled it”
Drug addicts can sometimes use any method of subterfuge and play acting to gain an other dose of medication, as their habit may be bigger than their approved dose.
I watched her stand there and the pharmacist looked at her and then stared at the clean and dry tiled floor, no evidence of any spilt medication to be seen.
The poor addict spotted this and then quickly and desperately turned to me and shouted “She stole my methadone when I fell”
I laughed aloud and looked at the staff that were all standing bewildered and unsure as to where this big improv show was going. Boy. this is good rehearsal for Ashley and I sketch show!
“Ok enough of the whole Norma Desmond act, they know you drank it, they have a CCTV camera on you and do I fucking look like I drink methadone?” I snapped.
“Who the fuck is Norma Desmond?” she shouted back. Wow this is a good sketch I thought to myself.
“She was a shop lifter for Shettleston, who lived in a shoe, what the fuck does that matter; just leave me out of your charade” I laughed.
She ran out of the shop screaming abuse at me, poor cow, she must be desperate.
So that was my day, I have still to get my posters and flyers made and can’t actually get it done due to problems with my designer/printer. I need to get on the case and tonight if husband attempts to wake me up, I am going to stab him and use this blog as evidence of provocation.

It was so hot today, seriously hot. I was sweating in the searing heat, Shaun- my wee nephew aged 9 came over and we went out for a walk. His mum is seven months pregnant and his baby sister (the famous Abi) is in Spain with her grand parents and wee Shaun needed some attention.
He is really interesting and full of questions, he actually stood in a book shop we had visited and after her had sought out my autobiography; he held it up high and said “Janey Godley is my auntie and she wrote this book!” The he pointed straight at me in the queue.
People stared, people pointed and I just squirmed and took him aside and explained that it wasn’t very humble to do that and he told me with his big brown eyes staring at me “I am proud of you auntie Janey and wanted everyone to know that” how cool is he?
We then walked round Glasgow and I pointed out some of the buildings and showed him specific pieces of architecture that interested me, for example…

Caledonia road church - Alexander 'Greek' Thomson
Glasgow herald - Charles Rennie mackintosh
Glasgow school of art - Charles Rennie Mackintosh
Hill house - Charles Rennie Mackintosh
Hunterian museum - Charles Rennie Mackintosh
St Andrews church - Dreghorn + Naismith
St Vincent street church - Alexander 'Greek' Thomson
Willow tea rooms - Charles Rennie Mackintosh

He was really interested and genuinely into the whole project. Then I explained ‘sympathetic architecture’ and Shaun played a game where he pointed out buildings that didn’t blend into their surroundings and were horribly ugly and box like…he came to the conclusion that in Glasgow during 1940-50s some people became fixated with concrete squares and ‘people had no imagination’.
We then headed to the park and he became really overheated, so I bought a huge bottle of water and simply poured it over his burning head. Then re-applied sun screen and we walked to the mini fun fair. I recognised the man operating the giant inflatable slide; he is an extended member of my husband’s family. They are travellers who live in trailers and own most of the ‘fairground rides’ in Scotland.
We greeted each other and chatted about family as Shaun quickly understood that if this guy was ‘my family’ then he was also ‘Shaun’s family’ and Shaun got as many free rides as he wanted!
‘Auntie Janey, you are famous and you even know fairground people, you are really cool!” his wee red face all smiles.
The sun reached it’s zenith and we both decided to head for home as the pavements were scorching and we could feel the heat through our flat sandals and we were both sweating badly.
We sat in the house in front of the fan and later in the afternoon husband took Shaun and I to Balamaha beach, which is literally 25 minutes from the city. The sun was fading but the heat stayed, the wee boy stripped to his shorts and dived into the Loch, the cool water lapped over him as he lay on the stony shingle. Husband and I kept a watchful eye on him; he found a wee fishing net and spent an hour trying to catch the tiny wee insect like fish that darted about his ankles. Husband and I sat on the beach chairs watching him as the sun set over the giant hills that surrounded Loch Lomond, the place was almost deserted and yet he still laughed loudly on his own and he splashed happily.
So he is now safely back in his own home and we are sitting here still hot and sticky, and the forecast tomorrow is set for scorching.
I am hoping the electronics shop sells fans as I am going to die in this heat.