My biggest insecurity.............

If I were to list my insecurities, they would bore the readers to death, which actually adds another insecurity to the list and one I had not even contemplated!

I have so many insecurities in my life at the moment and some may find them as something to snigger about behind my back. Bollocks, that’s another one!

I’m now beginning to wish I had never entered this challenge which, luckily for me adds another one to the regret list but not the insecurity list!

I’ve also swore which tells me that my education is poor as I use swearing because my vocabulary is limited and therefore use a swear word because I have no alternative – there’s one for the education system!

For me, I have two new insecurities, apart from the ones above which until I document them in my ledger are not official insecurities but have been noted so they do not escape the memory bank.

The second most important insecurity is the fear of someone entering the house via the back door whilst I’m asleep and robbing me or worse. You see the lock on the back door has been playing up for some time now and despite copious amounts of lubricant on the mechanism by way of a fine spray tube inserted into the lock. Despite working it several times, the bastard thing won’t lock when it’s shut. You see, I’ve swore again now, this challenge is making me worse; still, it’s a regret and not an insecurity! I even asked the vicar round to have a look at it as he’s a neighbour and I’d heard he was good at D.I.Y., well he lives on his own you see so he has to make his own fun!

So he comes round without his dog collar on and takes a look. After a few minutes he said you are buggered I’m afraid. Oh no I said, well not yet, but that’s what I’m afraid of, can’t you fix it before the virgin Julian is rendered virginless? He said; wedge a broom against it when you go to bed. That’ll be a bit uncomfortable Vic I said, lying on a bristle head! Wedge the broom against the door so no one can get in, I’ll be round after evensong and adjust the frame, that’ll do it. Oh, I said, realising my mistake.

So, my second insecurity is going to be seen to, hopefully before I am!

My main insecurity is my dream; it’s a recurring dream and causes me some distress, so much so I have sought professional help by way of a sleep therapist. He tells me via the free telephone consultation that he can cure me with just one session for a mere £100.00p + vat or vodka and tonic as I call it!

So I go along to his consultation room and ring the doorbell. A tallish thin man in a bright green suit and a red Fedora hat opens the door and introduces himself as Mr. Benjamin Dover the sleep therapist. He offers me a limp hand to shake. His palm was cold and sweaty and I let it go as quickly as possible. He told me to call him Ben which, as I looked at him from hat to shoe thought how very apt his name was!

He showed me into his consultation room, filled out a load of forms, paid the fee in cash and was asked to lie on a consultation bed.

Now Julian or can I call you Jules he asked presumptuously. Just call me Julian I replied. Now just relax and when you feel the time is right, tell me the issue.

After about fifteen minutes, I felt a nudge and opened my eyes; I’d dropped off into a pleasant snooze. Err, when you are ready Julian said Ben.

So I started to tell him the dream.

I’m in “The Gullible Do Gooder” pub in Worditch and I get chatting to this nice bloke who was standing at the bar, we got on like a house on fire and chatted away as if we’d known each other all our lives. He bought me a pint of Shirtlifter Brown Ale, one of those fancy real ales with dodgy names so I returned the favour by buying him a pint of Crème de Menthe Shandy on the next round. The evening was coming to an end and this bloke asked what I was doing when the pub had shut as he was meeting up with some like minded friends who were going to another friend’s house in the countryside for a select party. We’d got on so well that I thought it was a shame to call it a night and agreed to go with him.

We drove for a few miles and met up with his pals at a car park before making our way in convoy to the country house. I never noticed that there were only men there as I was having such a great time, everyone was so friendly. Well I’d had a few drinks and a few of the guy’s were dancing so I joined them. We had such a laugh but I was feeling a bit tipsy. My friend from the pub asked if I’m OK which by now had transgressed from being tipsy to being legless in what seemed like a few minutes. I’ll put you to bed was the last words I heard.

I woke up in this big bed, it was quiet, and I was naked and face down on the bed. I had this soreness around my backside as well as in my head. I reached down and touched between my buttocks. I had grease all around my posterior and it felt like the night after a Vindalloo! I realised what has happened, get up quickly and find my clothes in a heap on the floor beside the bed. I dress and look around for the man who brought me there. The house is empty, not a sign of anyone or a trace of the previous nights party.

It is then that I wake up; it’s the same every time I say to Ben who is listening intently. Hmm he says thoughtfully, I know exactly what it is and I’ll send the full report in the post, but tell me one thing Julian, do you tell the police or anyone else? No, I replied shamefully, what could I say in these circumstances? Yes, I see replied Ben, such an unusual dream, if you don’t mind, I am having a few friends round who are in the same profession and they’d love to hear your dream whilst having a drink or two, it is on Saturday and we are meeting at “The Gullible Do Gooder” pub in Worditch at 7.00pm and we’ll probably go on somewhere from there, would you like to come, they’d love to meet you? OK, I said, no charge is there? No Julian, not at all. I’ll send the report through to you.

So now I have my first insecurity well on the way to being resolved and may have made a few new friends if Saturday evening goes well!