Golly, last night was the first New Year’s Eve in, quite possibly, twenty years in which I’ve not wanted to do anything. I remember being in a grump on 31 December 1999, mainly due to the whole millennium thing having become rather tacky. My family weren’t too impressed that I hid away in the computer room sulking, but hey-ho.
This year, well, I’ve not exactly been in a grump, but my recent descent into a depressive slump and my frustrating sleep pattern has spelled doom for my NYE plans. Not that I had any. Today I woke up at seven-thirty in the evening, so that’s how my sleep is going. I’m trying to gradually push it back around to a healthy normal, but it’s taking time. And effort. I’m usually a bit of an insomniac but, funnily enough, now that I’m actually trying to stay awake longer, guess what my body wants to do? Yup, that’s right – sleep. FFS.
Anyway, even though I hadn’t planned on doing so, I might pop out to the pub today. My local seems to be the only out-of-town drinking place that can be arsed to be open on Christmas and New Year’s Day. How convenient for me! I’ll let you know how I get on. Bet you I fall asleep before opening time. All I need to do is stay awake for another four hours or so.
Oh, that massive boxset of William Shakespeare audio recordings arrived! It’s very swish. Now all I need to do is find a place to store the damned thing. I’m running out of space in this one bedroom flat. Oh well. I’ve imported ten of the plays so far onto my iPod Nano, but it’s quite a labour-intensive process. I’ll get there in the end, I’m sure. I just hope there’s space on the device for them all.
One of my old Facebook friends has asked my brother for my contact details, now that I’ve shut my account down. I’m not sure why he’s so keen, as we never spoke while I was still on there. Who knows, maybe it’ll spark some actual contact. He’s married with kids, so I doubt his interest is romantic. Unless he’s fed up with the wife and kids. We shall see.
I finally got around to watching Gosford Park the other day. I’ve had it on DVD for ages, but I just haven’t been in the mood for it. I do love Robert Altman films, but I do find I need to be in a very particular frame of mind for them. This week just felt right. Or was it last week? Urgh, I’m totally losing track of time and space. Well, the film is really good, considering Mr Altman made it so late in his career. Directors usually lose their mojo towards the end. Everyone was great in it, especially Emily Watson, Maggie Smith and Kristin Scott Thomas, who is one of my all-time favourite people. Bob Balaban is always a treat too. It’s like catching up with an old friend. I was a little saddened that Derek Jacobi and Stephen Fry weren’t in it more, but wotchagonnado? I found Clive Owen quite compelling, considering I don’t usually like him. I don’t know why I don’t usually like him. It’s an irrational dislike. I didn’t like James McAvoy until I found him to be the only good thing in that terrible X-Men: First Class movie.
Not speaking of the Holocaust, I watched Schindler’s List yesterday. So great. I spent most of the runtime trying not to burst into tears, which I’m guessing is pretty normal. I wonder if Liam Neeson and Ralph Fiennes have been in a movie together since. I’m guessing Mr Neeson has retired now, since he had that trouble in the papers recently. Alas! Well, after watching the film, I went down a Wikipedia rabbit-hole looking up information on the Holocaust. You can imagine how awful that was. Be nice to each other, people.
Righty, I think that’s about it for today. Not much has happened since whenever. Do drop me a line if you’re about.
Toodles!
Tuesday, 31 December 2019
Friday, 27 December 2019
Drifting through December
So, Christmas Day turned out to be what it seems to have become – a solo affair with a trip down to the pub for gallons of guffaws. There was a lovely atmosphere throughout the afternoon down at my local, which included some regulars and some randoms, the latter of which seemed surprisingly behaved. The guy I kinda like was in there twice (popping home in between to his paternal family for lunch, methinks) but, as usual, I didn’t get to have a proper chat with him. He seems to like conversing with everyone but me. Maybe he senses I like him. Or he just finds me dull. Either way - oh well. I did get a free bottle of premium-strength beer from the manager for being a dependable regular. That actually cheered me up. This time of year has begun to be rather a struggle for me, which it never has done until now. It’s a long time since I was a kid and Christmas was a mind-bendingly exciting and magical time of year. Now it has become something else entirely.
After the pub, I came home and, I think, just passed out on my bed. Yes, I’d had that much. Around six o’clock I came to and ordered a curry, which was only ok. Compared to last year, there really wasn’t much open on the day. That took me by surprise.
Around midnight, I got quite a treat. Basically, my neighbour below was turning her flat into a nightclub, as usual, but her direct next-door neighbour took exception to this. He’d clearly had enough. I’ve also had enough recently, so I totally understood, but I had stopped hoping that others would support me. That night, they did! I hadn’t said or done anything, but this other neighbour went and pounded on her door, shouting at her to turn the music down/off. She came out and argued with him for a bit then, after they had both retreated into their own homes, turned the music back on and – get this! – went out into the stairwell and sung at the top of her voice. It was the behavior of a crazy person. Well, she’s had me banging on my floor in frustration, which is very against my character, and now this other bloke has snapped, so maybe now she’ll take the hint. Who knows. The type of person who plays music at wall-rattling volume in a communal block of flats is not usually the perceptive type though, unfortunately.
Since Christmas Day, things have been rather quiet. I suppose it has only been two days, though. Time seems to be passing so damned slow at the moment. I’m not sure what’s changed. Perhaps it’s me. I did just finish off the Blandings TV series, which I heartily recommend. It’s only two seasons long and stars the wonderful Timothy Spall and Jennifer Saunders. The real find, however, is Jack Farthing. He’s like a more charismatic, talented and funny Hugh Grant. I’m rather smitten, actually. The feel of the show is a little too cartoony in the first season, but they noticeably tone that down for season two. Sadly, however, the writing isn’t as strong in the second season, so it’s a mixed bag. I laughed out loud so many times during the first season. That's not to say that two is bad. They're both very fun. Spall is also far too animated in the second season, losing the genius of his spaced-out drunkard that made the first so wonderful. Sometimes, they would only need to cut to him looking confused and I'd be roaring with laughter. That's all lost in the second season. Farthing is perfect throughout, however. He can “jack” MY “farthing”, any day! Get it?! Sticky wicket!
Anyway, moving on…
I was a bit upset the other week at the general election turnout but, as discussed in my "The end of an era" post, I have found society to be very reactionary and conservative of late. Who knows what's going on. Youngish folk between 20 and 40 seem to have a preoccupation with hatred, fueled by self-righteousness and an enjoyment of the adrenaline produced by rage, and an almost fetishistic desire to be outraged by something new every day. Their tactics for dealing with such feelings have become worryingly extreme and hypocritically intolerant. I consider myself very politically correct, but things have gone to a weird extreme. It's safer just to keep your head down and not to say anything these days, which is frightening. I dread where this is all leading, more than I fear anything else. Maybe the next generation will be a little more chilled-out. It sounds like most of them are stoned anyway, which is a positive start.
Oh, I’ve just treated myself to the Shakespeare audio recordings collection that I’ve had my eye on for a while. It’s a bit spendy, but I fancied a pick-me-up. I’ve got the BBC DVD set, but I’m finding I quite like such a thing just to listen to in bed. You know – without the telly on. Also, since Shakespeare’s dialogue is so tricky to keep track of, having it pumped directly into my ears with headphones helps a great deal. Otherwise, I’d have to have the telly on far louder than I’d like. I don’t want to turn into her downstairs! Well, that should be arriving later in the week, perhaps after New Year’s Day. We shall see. I’m not in a rush.
I’m still in regular contact with my ex after deciding to patch up our friendship and have another voice in my life. I’m not sure why, but they’ve been mostly texting me this week, instead of the daily phone calls. I’ve not fancied talking much anyway, so maybe it’s for the best. Perhaps they’ve felt the same way. It is a funny time of year, after all.
my deciding to get back in touch is looking rather timely, as I’m a little concerned that another friend may be moving on. It’s not a terrible surprise, but it’s still a little jarring. It could just be a dry spell coupled with my usual paranoia, but I'm sensing something new. They've just done the equivalent of a businessman asking an old colleague, with whom he has had a regular casual lunch for years, to suddenly start making formal appointments to see him through the first businessman's secretary. I’ll persevere, but I’m preparing myself to make some changes. They’ve not been about much this year anyway, so it’ll be fine. I’m experienced at having to let go.
As yet, I’ve still no plans for New Year’s Eve. My sleep pattern has been so inconsistent of late that I’m not entirely sure whether I’m coming or going. I woke up at three o’clock this afternoon, so that should give you an idea of what’s going on. I’m just sipping a coffee now, as of midnight, and may break into the box of lager that arrived today, in an attempt to keep myself awake until late tomorrow. This never works, but I’m feeling so low that some alcoholic oblivion might make a welcome change of headspace.
Oh, I’m just awful.
Well, that’s about all for now. I hope you’re all doing well and coping during this strange period. If you’re struggling and fancy a chat, then do drop me a line. I’m usually pottering about somewhere.
Toodles!
After the pub, I came home and, I think, just passed out on my bed. Yes, I’d had that much. Around six o’clock I came to and ordered a curry, which was only ok. Compared to last year, there really wasn’t much open on the day. That took me by surprise.
Around midnight, I got quite a treat. Basically, my neighbour below was turning her flat into a nightclub, as usual, but her direct next-door neighbour took exception to this. He’d clearly had enough. I’ve also had enough recently, so I totally understood, but I had stopped hoping that others would support me. That night, they did! I hadn’t said or done anything, but this other neighbour went and pounded on her door, shouting at her to turn the music down/off. She came out and argued with him for a bit then, after they had both retreated into their own homes, turned the music back on and – get this! – went out into the stairwell and sung at the top of her voice. It was the behavior of a crazy person. Well, she’s had me banging on my floor in frustration, which is very against my character, and now this other bloke has snapped, so maybe now she’ll take the hint. Who knows. The type of person who plays music at wall-rattling volume in a communal block of flats is not usually the perceptive type though, unfortunately.
Since Christmas Day, things have been rather quiet. I suppose it has only been two days, though. Time seems to be passing so damned slow at the moment. I’m not sure what’s changed. Perhaps it’s me. I did just finish off the Blandings TV series, which I heartily recommend. It’s only two seasons long and stars the wonderful Timothy Spall and Jennifer Saunders. The real find, however, is Jack Farthing. He’s like a more charismatic, talented and funny Hugh Grant. I’m rather smitten, actually. The feel of the show is a little too cartoony in the first season, but they noticeably tone that down for season two. Sadly, however, the writing isn’t as strong in the second season, so it’s a mixed bag. I laughed out loud so many times during the first season. That's not to say that two is bad. They're both very fun. Spall is also far too animated in the second season, losing the genius of his spaced-out drunkard that made the first so wonderful. Sometimes, they would only need to cut to him looking confused and I'd be roaring with laughter. That's all lost in the second season. Farthing is perfect throughout, however. He can “jack” MY “farthing”, any day! Get it?! Sticky wicket!
Anyway, moving on…
I was a bit upset the other week at the general election turnout but, as discussed in my "The end of an era" post, I have found society to be very reactionary and conservative of late. Who knows what's going on. Youngish folk between 20 and 40 seem to have a preoccupation with hatred, fueled by self-righteousness and an enjoyment of the adrenaline produced by rage, and an almost fetishistic desire to be outraged by something new every day. Their tactics for dealing with such feelings have become worryingly extreme and hypocritically intolerant. I consider myself very politically correct, but things have gone to a weird extreme. It's safer just to keep your head down and not to say anything these days, which is frightening. I dread where this is all leading, more than I fear anything else. Maybe the next generation will be a little more chilled-out. It sounds like most of them are stoned anyway, which is a positive start.
Oh, I’ve just treated myself to the Shakespeare audio recordings collection that I’ve had my eye on for a while. It’s a bit spendy, but I fancied a pick-me-up. I’ve got the BBC DVD set, but I’m finding I quite like such a thing just to listen to in bed. You know – without the telly on. Also, since Shakespeare’s dialogue is so tricky to keep track of, having it pumped directly into my ears with headphones helps a great deal. Otherwise, I’d have to have the telly on far louder than I’d like. I don’t want to turn into her downstairs! Well, that should be arriving later in the week, perhaps after New Year’s Day. We shall see. I’m not in a rush.
I’m still in regular contact with my ex after deciding to patch up our friendship and have another voice in my life. I’m not sure why, but they’ve been mostly texting me this week, instead of the daily phone calls. I’ve not fancied talking much anyway, so maybe it’s for the best. Perhaps they’ve felt the same way. It is a funny time of year, after all.
my deciding to get back in touch is looking rather timely, as I’m a little concerned that another friend may be moving on. It’s not a terrible surprise, but it’s still a little jarring. It could just be a dry spell coupled with my usual paranoia, but I'm sensing something new. They've just done the equivalent of a businessman asking an old colleague, with whom he has had a regular casual lunch for years, to suddenly start making formal appointments to see him through the first businessman's secretary. I’ll persevere, but I’m preparing myself to make some changes. They’ve not been about much this year anyway, so it’ll be fine. I’m experienced at having to let go.
As yet, I’ve still no plans for New Year’s Eve. My sleep pattern has been so inconsistent of late that I’m not entirely sure whether I’m coming or going. I woke up at three o’clock this afternoon, so that should give you an idea of what’s going on. I’m just sipping a coffee now, as of midnight, and may break into the box of lager that arrived today, in an attempt to keep myself awake until late tomorrow. This never works, but I’m feeling so low that some alcoholic oblivion might make a welcome change of headspace.
Oh, I’m just awful.
Well, that’s about all for now. I hope you’re all doing well and coping during this strange period. If you’re struggling and fancy a chat, then do drop me a line. I’m usually pottering about somewhere.
Toodles!
Wednesday, 18 December 2019
Season's bleatings
Hey-ho! Thought I’d drop y’all a line, considering it’s that time of year when some of us struggle to stay emotionally buoyant more than others.
My only real plan for Christmas Day is to go down to the pub, share a few guffaws with the regulars, then go home and order a curry. I don’t think I’ve had a “proper” turkey dinner with all the trimmings in a couple of years, but I guess that’ll just make the next one extra-special.
I’m patching up my friendship with my ex, as we’ve both been really unwell this year so I thought we could both do with each other’s company. I think I’m the only one of her many, many friends with who she can cope with staying over at her home and spending any great deal of time with. Well, I guess we did go out for eight years. We hadn’t had a proper catch-up since I finally moved the last of my stuff out of her house in January, which is when I felt like even our friendship was over. I may have been a little melodramatic, but that’s not too strange for me. I’m a bit daft.
So, yeah, it’s been reassuring to have another friend to keep me sane. It felt a little unfair to put all that weight on my gaming buddy and a few confused old sods down at the pub. This flat and its inconsiderate tenants have been driving me crazy, so I needed to get out and see somebody. Putting aside petty differences to improve my mental health wasn’t too tough a challenge, and things seem to be going smoothly. For now.
I’ve made an appointment in January to finally talk to my doctor about going back on antidepressants. I’ve given it a year but, alas, I’m finding I just can’t cope anymore. I know I have other health problems which affect my mood, but my general outlook on life and myself as a person are so bleak and hopeless. When my old medication worked, they helped me get out of bed every morning and tackle each new day with vigour, regardless of my circumstances. Now, every day ahead feels like a wasteland of failure and inevitable decline. My mind also keeps pummeling me with bad memories that I'd rather just forget forever. It’s become a terrible struggle to not just sit crying and wailing into the darkness. Nobody should have to put up with that.
Booze-wise – yes, me staying off it didn’t last too long. A month, was it? Roughly. Anyway, I found myself at a low point one week where I just wanted to drink myself to death. I guess I could still achieve that, but trying the antidepressant route too seems sensible. I’m curious to see which ones I get put on this time, if at all.
In terms of hobbies, I’ve been getting into classic literature of late. On my current audiobook rotation are: Les Misérables, Don Quixote, Anna Karenina, Swann's Way and David Copperfield. All weighty doorstops, for sure, but I’m quite liking sinking into the past. At the risk of sounding maudlin, I often find peace in artworks made before I was born and all the problems started. It’s rather therapeutic. I’m also listening to a series of audio lectures on key turnings points in medieval Europe, which can get rather bleak. Humans have been quite shitty to one another throughout history. It hasn’t stopped. I've also started audioreading The Diary of Samuel Pepys, which I wanted to do more as research for a writing project. I'd like to set a story in the 17th or 18th centuries, so I thought Pepys' diary would get me in the right frame of mind. I've always wanted to read it, regardless.
I’m not playing guitar much at the moment, although I’m not sure why. I have a tinker on my acoustic maybe once or twice a week, but that’s about it. I’m sure I’ll come back round to another musical phase eventually, but it’s definitely on the backburner for now.
Oh, I've bought the Are You Being Served? boxset at last. I've obviously passed it while channel hopping when it's been on telly over the years, but I don't think I've ever actually sat through an entire episode before now. For some reason, I've felt like I've needed to watch it from the start, which really wasn't necessary. I'm really enjoying it, I must say. My favourite character is Mrs Slocombe, who is probably camper than the not-as-camp-as-his-reputation-suggests Mr Humphries (who's wonderful too). There's some awkward old-school 70s racism in there unfortunately, but so far there's only been one major incident. I'm on the third of ten series at the moment, and I hope the quality doesn't go downhill too steeply towards the end.
No romance news at the moment, I'm afraid. If something does crop up, then it’ll definitely be out of left field. I really could do with some intimacy though. Not sexual intimacy, just closeness with somebody I care about and who cares about me. It could be a he. It could be a she. When I'm lying in bed watching DVDs, I often imagine there's somebody lying there with me, their head on my chest, and I smell their hair, then they look up at me and smile, and I smile back, then we hold each other a little tighter and go back to watching whatever-it-was we were watching. I miss all that. I really don’t feel romantically about my ex anymore so, even though we’re becoming friends again, I don’t think I’d want to get back together. She’s been officially promoted to being my “fag hag”. Bless.
Saying that, there are a couple of guys I like, but I think they’ll just turn out to be dead ends. I’m not much to look at these days, even if they did turn out to be gay. I need to try a bit harder. Sigh. But, yeah, I’ve made the mistake of falling for straight guys in the past and, well, misery ensued. Flirting with supermarket delivery men will just have to do for now.
So, to bring things to a close, in some ways I’m shrugging to cope, but in others I’m feeling quite productive. It really depends on my mood on the day. I’m curious to see how Christmas Day goes, as I quite enjoyed a simple afternoon down at the ale house last year. I’ve not thought about what to do for New Year’s Eve yet, which is odd for me. I’m sure I’ll pick a film series to sit down with closer to the time. Maybe I’ll do the original six Star Trek films again. They’re usually a blast.
Well, if you fancy hooking up for a few jars over the holidays, then do let me know. I’ll probably be about somewhere staring off into the distance contemplating the universe. Fun, huh?
Anyway…
Toodles!
My only real plan for Christmas Day is to go down to the pub, share a few guffaws with the regulars, then go home and order a curry. I don’t think I’ve had a “proper” turkey dinner with all the trimmings in a couple of years, but I guess that’ll just make the next one extra-special.
I’m patching up my friendship with my ex, as we’ve both been really unwell this year so I thought we could both do with each other’s company. I think I’m the only one of her many, many friends with who she can cope with staying over at her home and spending any great deal of time with. Well, I guess we did go out for eight years. We hadn’t had a proper catch-up since I finally moved the last of my stuff out of her house in January, which is when I felt like even our friendship was over. I may have been a little melodramatic, but that’s not too strange for me. I’m a bit daft.
So, yeah, it’s been reassuring to have another friend to keep me sane. It felt a little unfair to put all that weight on my gaming buddy and a few confused old sods down at the pub. This flat and its inconsiderate tenants have been driving me crazy, so I needed to get out and see somebody. Putting aside petty differences to improve my mental health wasn’t too tough a challenge, and things seem to be going smoothly. For now.
I’ve made an appointment in January to finally talk to my doctor about going back on antidepressants. I’ve given it a year but, alas, I’m finding I just can’t cope anymore. I know I have other health problems which affect my mood, but my general outlook on life and myself as a person are so bleak and hopeless. When my old medication worked, they helped me get out of bed every morning and tackle each new day with vigour, regardless of my circumstances. Now, every day ahead feels like a wasteland of failure and inevitable decline. My mind also keeps pummeling me with bad memories that I'd rather just forget forever. It’s become a terrible struggle to not just sit crying and wailing into the darkness. Nobody should have to put up with that.
Booze-wise – yes, me staying off it didn’t last too long. A month, was it? Roughly. Anyway, I found myself at a low point one week where I just wanted to drink myself to death. I guess I could still achieve that, but trying the antidepressant route too seems sensible. I’m curious to see which ones I get put on this time, if at all.
In terms of hobbies, I’ve been getting into classic literature of late. On my current audiobook rotation are: Les Misérables, Don Quixote, Anna Karenina, Swann's Way and David Copperfield. All weighty doorstops, for sure, but I’m quite liking sinking into the past. At the risk of sounding maudlin, I often find peace in artworks made before I was born and all the problems started. It’s rather therapeutic. I’m also listening to a series of audio lectures on key turnings points in medieval Europe, which can get rather bleak. Humans have been quite shitty to one another throughout history. It hasn’t stopped. I've also started audioreading The Diary of Samuel Pepys, which I wanted to do more as research for a writing project. I'd like to set a story in the 17th or 18th centuries, so I thought Pepys' diary would get me in the right frame of mind. I've always wanted to read it, regardless.
I’m not playing guitar much at the moment, although I’m not sure why. I have a tinker on my acoustic maybe once or twice a week, but that’s about it. I’m sure I’ll come back round to another musical phase eventually, but it’s definitely on the backburner for now.
Oh, I've bought the Are You Being Served? boxset at last. I've obviously passed it while channel hopping when it's been on telly over the years, but I don't think I've ever actually sat through an entire episode before now. For some reason, I've felt like I've needed to watch it from the start, which really wasn't necessary. I'm really enjoying it, I must say. My favourite character is Mrs Slocombe, who is probably camper than the not-as-camp-as-his-reputation-suggests Mr Humphries (who's wonderful too). There's some awkward old-school 70s racism in there unfortunately, but so far there's only been one major incident. I'm on the third of ten series at the moment, and I hope the quality doesn't go downhill too steeply towards the end.
No romance news at the moment, I'm afraid. If something does crop up, then it’ll definitely be out of left field. I really could do with some intimacy though. Not sexual intimacy, just closeness with somebody I care about and who cares about me. It could be a he. It could be a she. When I'm lying in bed watching DVDs, I often imagine there's somebody lying there with me, their head on my chest, and I smell their hair, then they look up at me and smile, and I smile back, then we hold each other a little tighter and go back to watching whatever-it-was we were watching. I miss all that. I really don’t feel romantically about my ex anymore so, even though we’re becoming friends again, I don’t think I’d want to get back together. She’s been officially promoted to being my “fag hag”. Bless.
Saying that, there are a couple of guys I like, but I think they’ll just turn out to be dead ends. I’m not much to look at these days, even if they did turn out to be gay. I need to try a bit harder. Sigh. But, yeah, I’ve made the mistake of falling for straight guys in the past and, well, misery ensued. Flirting with supermarket delivery men will just have to do for now.
So, to bring things to a close, in some ways I’m shrugging to cope, but in others I’m feeling quite productive. It really depends on my mood on the day. I’m curious to see how Christmas Day goes, as I quite enjoyed a simple afternoon down at the ale house last year. I’ve not thought about what to do for New Year’s Eve yet, which is odd for me. I’m sure I’ll pick a film series to sit down with closer to the time. Maybe I’ll do the original six Star Trek films again. They’re usually a blast.
Well, if you fancy hooking up for a few jars over the holidays, then do let me know. I’ll probably be about somewhere staring off into the distance contemplating the universe. Fun, huh?
Anyway…
Toodles!
Wednesday, 23 October 2019
Fear and loathing on the breadline
Hello! Just an attempt at a general update here. I’ve been pretty quiet of late, so I thought I’d outline a few ongoing life issues. Nothing too serious though. I think.
Due to my previously discussed new health problems, I’ve decided to knock booze on the head as best I can. I’ll allow myself Christmas, New Year’s Eve, my birthday and a hair-of-the-dog for the resultant hangovers, but that’s about it.
While I am, indeed, doing this for my own health, it was inspired by a gaming buddy not wanting to get together anymore when I was in that state. I wasn’t being nasty or anything, I just think it was bothering them to hear me in that condition. I’d keep off the bottle even if they still didn’t want to game with me, so this isn’t me trying to guilt-trip them. Sometimes you just need that kick up the arse.
I must say, going to the pub every day and asking for an orange juice & soda water has been a hurdle, as you do get the odd comment. Mostly though, people have been really cool about it, which has been a great relief. I mean, we all go through these things, right?
Sadly, what has made it harder has been a few smaller, random, unrelated things going wrong. These have been: medical appointments proving fruitless due to professional incompetence, stuff breaking down on me, and people I know going through their own life difficulties, leaving me feeling sad for them and nihilistic about the general unfairness of life. Despite these things, I’m learning to just ride the wave, and accept that getting drunk won’t solve any of the issues that keep cropping up.
Related to my staying on the wagon, I’m also trying to get more exercise, mostly by going out for a walk in the morning every day, then hopping on the exercise bike just before bed. Both boost my mood and leave me feeling really positive. It’s just the gaps in-between that fill me with anxiety, dread and hopelessness. What about, you ask? Nothing. It’s just good old clinical depression hard at work. I think the time is nearing for me to go back to my doctor and try out some different antidepressants, as my body seemed to start rejecting Fluoxetine after eight loyal years.
I’m still playing the lottery, which I’m forever unsure about. Some days it fills me with enough hope just to get through the week, then some days it fills me with despair, especially since I never win the jackpot. I just need to win once though, I keep telling myself. Just once!
My lottery-related “what if?” fantasies are becoming more and more regular and detailed. I hunt for houses on the internet that I’d like to buy, should I win the jackpot. I’ve favourited a few extravagant doozies to my browser. I’m not planning on staying in Sheffield, as there’s nothing keeping me here anymore. I’m looking to go back down south, where the landscape might be easier for a person with mobility issues to deal with. Sheffield is just too full of deadly little surprises.
Any recommendations you have will be much appreciated. I’m sure I’ll win tonight and have to start packing my bags in the morning, hehe.
Elsewhere, I’m working on my fiction writing, which could also spell my way out of this hellhole. It’s slow going, but I’m feeling pretty positive about it. I just need to stop dwelling on the chapters I’ve already written for now and just plow on to the end of this draft. I keep holding myself back by obsessing over the handful of opening pages. That behaviour needs to wait until the next pass.
So, yes, life’s mainly been a series of sharp peaks and troughs, which is something going back on medication should smooth out. I might make that appointment tomorrow. I’m getting a bit tired of randomly bursting into tears.
Well, I best leave you for now. I’ve been struggling to sleep this week, so my exercise routine is a bit hit and miss .I didn’t go for my walk this morning, and I’m not too sure whether I’ll be steady enough to go on the bike later. Sleep deprivation is truly a horrible thing.
Do stay in touch, darlings. If anyone is actually out there. My pageviews aren’t very encouraging these days, but it wasn’t any better before I left social networking, so I’m not putting it down to that. I guess I’m just fading away. I’m not a big seeker of attention anyway. Less is more.
Anyway, that’s my spleen vented for now.
Toodles.
Due to my previously discussed new health problems, I’ve decided to knock booze on the head as best I can. I’ll allow myself Christmas, New Year’s Eve, my birthday and a hair-of-the-dog for the resultant hangovers, but that’s about it.
While I am, indeed, doing this for my own health, it was inspired by a gaming buddy not wanting to get together anymore when I was in that state. I wasn’t being nasty or anything, I just think it was bothering them to hear me in that condition. I’d keep off the bottle even if they still didn’t want to game with me, so this isn’t me trying to guilt-trip them. Sometimes you just need that kick up the arse.
I must say, going to the pub every day and asking for an orange juice & soda water has been a hurdle, as you do get the odd comment. Mostly though, people have been really cool about it, which has been a great relief. I mean, we all go through these things, right?
Sadly, what has made it harder has been a few smaller, random, unrelated things going wrong. These have been: medical appointments proving fruitless due to professional incompetence, stuff breaking down on me, and people I know going through their own life difficulties, leaving me feeling sad for them and nihilistic about the general unfairness of life. Despite these things, I’m learning to just ride the wave, and accept that getting drunk won’t solve any of the issues that keep cropping up.
Related to my staying on the wagon, I’m also trying to get more exercise, mostly by going out for a walk in the morning every day, then hopping on the exercise bike just before bed. Both boost my mood and leave me feeling really positive. It’s just the gaps in-between that fill me with anxiety, dread and hopelessness. What about, you ask? Nothing. It’s just good old clinical depression hard at work. I think the time is nearing for me to go back to my doctor and try out some different antidepressants, as my body seemed to start rejecting Fluoxetine after eight loyal years.
I’m still playing the lottery, which I’m forever unsure about. Some days it fills me with enough hope just to get through the week, then some days it fills me with despair, especially since I never win the jackpot. I just need to win once though, I keep telling myself. Just once!
My lottery-related “what if?” fantasies are becoming more and more regular and detailed. I hunt for houses on the internet that I’d like to buy, should I win the jackpot. I’ve favourited a few extravagant doozies to my browser. I’m not planning on staying in Sheffield, as there’s nothing keeping me here anymore. I’m looking to go back down south, where the landscape might be easier for a person with mobility issues to deal with. Sheffield is just too full of deadly little surprises.
Any recommendations you have will be much appreciated. I’m sure I’ll win tonight and have to start packing my bags in the morning, hehe.
Elsewhere, I’m working on my fiction writing, which could also spell my way out of this hellhole. It’s slow going, but I’m feeling pretty positive about it. I just need to stop dwelling on the chapters I’ve already written for now and just plow on to the end of this draft. I keep holding myself back by obsessing over the handful of opening pages. That behaviour needs to wait until the next pass.
So, yes, life’s mainly been a series of sharp peaks and troughs, which is something going back on medication should smooth out. I might make that appointment tomorrow. I’m getting a bit tired of randomly bursting into tears.
Well, I best leave you for now. I’ve been struggling to sleep this week, so my exercise routine is a bit hit and miss .I didn’t go for my walk this morning, and I’m not too sure whether I’ll be steady enough to go on the bike later. Sleep deprivation is truly a horrible thing.
Do stay in touch, darlings. If anyone is actually out there. My pageviews aren’t very encouraging these days, but it wasn’t any better before I left social networking, so I’m not putting it down to that. I guess I’m just fading away. I’m not a big seeker of attention anyway. Less is more.
Anyway, that’s my spleen vented for now.
Toodles.
Tuesday, 22 October 2019
Despair in the early hours
Kinda feel like my life's come to a halt recently. Things that are generally out of my control, but which still involve me, keep going wrong. I try, but the universe seems bent against me. I'm struggling to summon the strength to fight all this negativity. It's all just so awful. Please say this isn't how it'll be forever. It hurts so much.
Sunday, 13 October 2019
"I have no mouth, and I must scream"
A good friend, with whom I have broken bread nearly every day for the past couple of years, has found themselves in a very difficult situation. For many reasons, I am unable to help them. There is not one thing I can do about any of it. This is very frustrating. I can barely express in words how upsetting it is to have a friend in need and be unable to reach out to them. I have been on the verge of tears and have been physically shaking for days due to how useless I feel. I only hope that, whatever is currently happening on their end, it all comes to a happy conclusion and we are able to speak again soon. These are dark times indeed. My faith in humanity can get no lower. Life truly is an endless horror.
UPDATE: Crisis over. Stress reduced. Faith in humanity improving.
UPDATE: Crisis over. Stress reduced. Faith in humanity improving.
Saturday, 14 September 2019
The end of an era
Long-time no see, readers! I’ve been preoccupied with random distractions, it seems. Such is life, I am afraid.
I’ve recently decided to leave social media services for good, which wasn’t an easy decision to make. I’d made a few failed attempts to do so in the past, attempts that usually ended with me falling off the wagon due to my fairly isolated lifestyle. What has cemented this final closure of my accounts is an increasing realisation that the social landscape of the internet has changed, rather radically, over a number of years. It was a slow and subtle change, but a change that I’ve felt the effects of quite strongly, leading me to want to make my own change.
While there were many exceptions, I feel that, when its boom began in the mid-90s, the internet was a haven for awkward nerds, like myself, who found it difficult to connect with people out in the “real world”. They were generally passive, rational and logical folk, with open hearts and minds. Most importantly, they were lonely and sought the company of others like themselves. For people like me, that first ten years or so was a utopia. I met many friends, some of whom I met in person, including my ex-girlfriend.
So, what’s changed? Well, getting onto the internet used to be a fairly tricky affair. You needed a computer and an internet connection, neither of which were cheap and easy to set up. You had to really want to get online. Those who weren’t really that bothered were content with driving their cars to meet their already-established social circle in person. Now, anyone with a phone can access the internet and insinuate themselves amongst the online community, including some very hostile, irrational and illogically-minded people. It is no longer a haven for lonely souls wishing to make a connection with other people. It has become a battleground for attention and self-righteousness.
This is where my decision to leave social media comes in.
My general approach to posting online over the years has been to write relatable, witty and interesting anecdotes about my life that might provoke a discussion. I would also post about my varying cultural interests, but overall it would be stories about my personal comings and goings. However, I slowly became concerned that, not only was I boring people, but I may even be annoying them and embarrassing myself.
There is also something that I would describe as my "self-service checkout theory". Simply put, from personal observations, a self-service checkout takes longer to use than standing in a queue and waiting to be served by an actual member of staff. This feels similar to social media, in that we have all come to believe that, by simply adding people to our friends lists, we are staying in touch with them. This, like the belief that the self-service checkout is somehow quicker, is merely an illusion. There still needs to be some sort of interaction to happen, but we have become unwilling to do so. In fact, if you do attempt to chat, even if you were not the one to make initial contact (friend requests and all that), then people are simply confused. So now we have a case of: "That guy I went to school with thirty years ago is now in my friends list, so we must be the best of friends again!". No. This is no longer enough. For me, at least. I want to talk.
To add to these thoughts and concerns, the new wave of internet users meant that many feeds became filled with arguments about politics and current affairs, baby-boomers gushing tediously over their toddlers, or enthusiasm about terrible, terrible, terrible superhero movies. None of which I can relate to. I don’t consider myself a snob (ok, maybe a little), but I have some taste, and pop culture now seems to have officially lost me. Or perhaps I have lost it. I am nearly 40, after all.
The political and current affairs stuff is quite important to note, as this has arrived with an aggression that I am very uncomfortable with. People claiming to be coming from a liberal and socially responsible place have begun to act like the fascists they apparently hate so much. The word “hate” there is quite crucial. To abuse, taunt and physically assault people for their beliefs, whatever they might be, and to incite others to do so, and to create an atmosphere of fear where people are afraid to express themselves, are acts of fascism. The “Never Stop Punching Nazis” movement and their ilk appear to be unaware of the grim irony of their own actions. There are no exceptions, and there are no excuses. No matter how righteous you believe yourself to be, this behaviour is wrong. Furthermore, negativity is being spread by people believing themselves to be doing good by disseminating it. They seem to feel that, by sharing news items or posts about things they don’t agree with, often with their own snide commentary attached, they will make the world a better place. This is untrue. All they are really doing is spreading hatred, and also adding to it. What a shame.
So, yes, I have voted with my feet and left the internet’s social landscape. For the most part. With any luck, other passive, peaceful, logical and soft-hearted liberals like myself will also become weary and follow my example, leaving only the rabid dogs to fight amongst themselves. Maybe those left will see the horror they have created and amend their ways to allow folk like me to return, but I shall not be holding my breath.
Until a new wind blows, I am finding a great deal of satisfaction in actually leaving my home and meeting people in person. My regular trips to the pub on weekday afternoons is my new social media. It used to be the other way around, whereby I would talk all day online then skulk off to sit quietly in the corner of a pub all by myself. Now the opposite is true. How very strange. But interesting.
Anyway, if you wish to have a chat, then do seek me out in an ale house somehow, somewhere, sometime. I’ll get the first round in, my friends.
Do stay in touch, and be excellent to each other.
Toodles!
I’ve recently decided to leave social media services for good, which wasn’t an easy decision to make. I’d made a few failed attempts to do so in the past, attempts that usually ended with me falling off the wagon due to my fairly isolated lifestyle. What has cemented this final closure of my accounts is an increasing realisation that the social landscape of the internet has changed, rather radically, over a number of years. It was a slow and subtle change, but a change that I’ve felt the effects of quite strongly, leading me to want to make my own change.
While there were many exceptions, I feel that, when its boom began in the mid-90s, the internet was a haven for awkward nerds, like myself, who found it difficult to connect with people out in the “real world”. They were generally passive, rational and logical folk, with open hearts and minds. Most importantly, they were lonely and sought the company of others like themselves. For people like me, that first ten years or so was a utopia. I met many friends, some of whom I met in person, including my ex-girlfriend.
So, what’s changed? Well, getting onto the internet used to be a fairly tricky affair. You needed a computer and an internet connection, neither of which were cheap and easy to set up. You had to really want to get online. Those who weren’t really that bothered were content with driving their cars to meet their already-established social circle in person. Now, anyone with a phone can access the internet and insinuate themselves amongst the online community, including some very hostile, irrational and illogically-minded people. It is no longer a haven for lonely souls wishing to make a connection with other people. It has become a battleground for attention and self-righteousness.
This is where my decision to leave social media comes in.
My general approach to posting online over the years has been to write relatable, witty and interesting anecdotes about my life that might provoke a discussion. I would also post about my varying cultural interests, but overall it would be stories about my personal comings and goings. However, I slowly became concerned that, not only was I boring people, but I may even be annoying them and embarrassing myself.
There is also something that I would describe as my "self-service checkout theory". Simply put, from personal observations, a self-service checkout takes longer to use than standing in a queue and waiting to be served by an actual member of staff. This feels similar to social media, in that we have all come to believe that, by simply adding people to our friends lists, we are staying in touch with them. This, like the belief that the self-service checkout is somehow quicker, is merely an illusion. There still needs to be some sort of interaction to happen, but we have become unwilling to do so. In fact, if you do attempt to chat, even if you were not the one to make initial contact (friend requests and all that), then people are simply confused. So now we have a case of: "That guy I went to school with thirty years ago is now in my friends list, so we must be the best of friends again!". No. This is no longer enough. For me, at least. I want to talk.
To add to these thoughts and concerns, the new wave of internet users meant that many feeds became filled with arguments about politics and current affairs, baby-boomers gushing tediously over their toddlers, or enthusiasm about terrible, terrible, terrible superhero movies. None of which I can relate to. I don’t consider myself a snob (ok, maybe a little), but I have some taste, and pop culture now seems to have officially lost me. Or perhaps I have lost it. I am nearly 40, after all.
The political and current affairs stuff is quite important to note, as this has arrived with an aggression that I am very uncomfortable with. People claiming to be coming from a liberal and socially responsible place have begun to act like the fascists they apparently hate so much. The word “hate” there is quite crucial. To abuse, taunt and physically assault people for their beliefs, whatever they might be, and to incite others to do so, and to create an atmosphere of fear where people are afraid to express themselves, are acts of fascism. The “Never Stop Punching Nazis” movement and their ilk appear to be unaware of the grim irony of their own actions. There are no exceptions, and there are no excuses. No matter how righteous you believe yourself to be, this behaviour is wrong. Furthermore, negativity is being spread by people believing themselves to be doing good by disseminating it. They seem to feel that, by sharing news items or posts about things they don’t agree with, often with their own snide commentary attached, they will make the world a better place. This is untrue. All they are really doing is spreading hatred, and also adding to it. What a shame.
So, yes, I have voted with my feet and left the internet’s social landscape. For the most part. With any luck, other passive, peaceful, logical and soft-hearted liberals like myself will also become weary and follow my example, leaving only the rabid dogs to fight amongst themselves. Maybe those left will see the horror they have created and amend their ways to allow folk like me to return, but I shall not be holding my breath.
Until a new wind blows, I am finding a great deal of satisfaction in actually leaving my home and meeting people in person. My regular trips to the pub on weekday afternoons is my new social media. It used to be the other way around, whereby I would talk all day online then skulk off to sit quietly in the corner of a pub all by myself. Now the opposite is true. How very strange. But interesting.
Anyway, if you wish to have a chat, then do seek me out in an ale house somehow, somewhere, sometime. I’ll get the first round in, my friends.
Do stay in touch, and be excellent to each other.
Toodles!
Friday, 2 August 2019
Everybody was kung fu fighting
I’m finding myself in a rather passive place in my life at the moment, due to various outside forces. Nothing sinister, mind you. Basically, I’m having to address each day at a time, and take instructions about my comings and goings from other people. I still get to do my own hobby stuff, but I’m having to keep an open mind and schedule for if I’m required to be elsewhere. It’s not as frustrating as it sounds, but I do feel in a sort of limbo. The one positive aspect of this is that appointments etc. are forcing me out of the house, so I’m getting more fresh air and exercise. It’s always a bonus if these things happen in the morning, so that the world outside isn’t so hectic. Having to make your way around with a white cane is especially tricky when “smartphone zombies” get in your way. It’s amazing how many sighted people don’t take stock of their surroundings. I guess if you didn’t need to, you wouldn’t.
Yesterday, I went via the city centre to one of the more ethnic parts of town. It’s a very fun street, full of exotic cafes, restaurants and independent shops. It’s almost jarring when you’re walking along and you see a chain business there. They curiously stand out. I went to an Asian café for a relaxing drink, with the option of a bite to eat. I’m trying to phase out going to the pub due to my recent health issues, so nestling into the corner of a coffee shop seemed like the perfect alternative. I’m not feeling quite as spaced-out as I was, possibly due to my new medication, but I was still able to sit chilling for a couple of hours without feeling too self-conscious. I was counting on my recent lightheadedness to help me relax. It was, as mentioned previously, an odd little bonus of my recent diagnosis.
I did a search for cafes on that street before heading out, but I was still unsure whether I’d find any of them. Luckily I did, almost by accident, and went in for a seat. It was decorated more like a restaurant than a café but, due to their casual takeout service, they definitely seemed to be going for the coffee shop-vibe. I felt a little intimidated at first, as my night-blindness kicked in when I first walked in (as usual). Thankfully, the waitress approached me pretty much straight away and told me just to grab a seat and she’d be along shortly. I sat as close to the exit as possible, so I could street-watch (also so I could have a little more natural light). It was the waitresses first day on the job, so she was even more confused and nervous than I was which, in turn, conspired to increase my anxiety at my being in a new place. I really could have done with someone more experienced serving me, but we seemed to get there in the end. When she turned up to ask me what I wanted, I gave her my drinks order and she spent a few minutes jabbing at her ordering pad (quite what’s wrong with the old-fashioned pen and paper that has serviced waiters for hundreds of years is quite beyond me), making me obviously assume she was inputting my request. Afterwards, she looked up and asked me what I wanted again, which confused me. After a fumbled back and forth, she finally divulged that it was her first day, to which I rather too profusely exclaimed: “Ohhh!”, as if her admission had explained something that was hanging over the situation. It was a little insensitive of me but, like I said, I was rather nervous. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I had two coffees, a bottle of water and a spicy omelette. The waitress seemed to think it was strange me ordering the omelette, as the menu boasted it having four eggs in its recipe, but it was surprisingly light, and I had no trouble in finishing it. Even the owner of the café remarked on my ability to eat it all when I got up to pay. I became slightly self-conscious by both of these remarks. I suppose I do have a large appetite. It just seemed like they were implying, with a glance at my figure, that I didn’t need any more eggs in my diet. But that certainly wasn’t said explicitly. They were all extremely polite, and I think I’ll return next week. I’m assuming it’s a quality place, as it did get rather busy at one stage. It’s always encouraging when you find an ethnic restaurant where the likewise ethnic folk actually eat at in large numbers. Is that racist? It’s not meant to be.
After what turned out to be my lunch, I headed along the street to the Asian supermarket that I used to go to quite regularly. I’m not sure what made me stop. Perhaps a drop in my mobility a few years ago. I bought three bags of fresh chillies (they have a great assortment) and a pack of paprika powder, all of which came to less than £2. From a chain supermarket, the same basket of goods would come to around £5. I almost expected the checkout woman to admit that she’d made a mistake and recalculate. But she didn’t. Amazing. I will be back there too.
I made the mistake afterwards of waiting for a bus home next to the big indoor market in town. It’s a terrible place to stand in summer, as the buildings and concrete paving reflect the sun and heat back at you quite intensely. I should have made my way around to the bus station or just gotten a taxi. I have no idea why I didn’t. I guess I just forgot how horrible it was waiting there.
This whole journey was undertaken with very little physical exertion, which has been one of the bonuses of losing weight this year. Before, just walking down to the bus stop around the corner from my home would render me on the verge of a heart attack, but now I can go anywhere without having to plan for shortcuts and sit-downs. It’s really boosting my confidence. The only remaining issue is, of course, my visual impairment, which will forever make things difficult. I guess I don’t need to explain why.
As I got home after the bus ride, I noticed a cooker had been added to the furniture dumped outside by whoever is emptying their flat. I initially assumed it was my neighbour downstairs - “Karaoke Girl” - as she has family over, who I thought were here to help her with taking down the interior of the property. It suddenly dawned on me last night that the two things may very well be a coincidence, and that it may not be her stuff that’s being abandoned for the council to collect. I really hope it is her moving, as her loud music-listening sessions have become intolerable, especially since it’s summer and all our windows are open. There’s still a chance it is her, but I’m trying to keep an open mind about it. Anyway, her replacement could be even worse, you never know. At least my antisocial neighbours are giving me an extra excuse to bugger off out the house for a few hours.
I’m going through a classic movie phase at the moment, of which I have an abundance in my video collection. I’m finding them nice to watch in bed at night before I settle down to sleep. I’ve gone off sitcoms slightly, but I’m sure that desire will return soon enough. This week, I’m checking out some of the films in my David Lean boxset. The collection comprises his earlier, pre-epic, works, which are a lot of fun. I’m sure I’ll manage to sit through the entirety of the tiresome Ryan’s Daughter one day. I’ve not managed it yet though. Last night, I watched Blithe Spirit. I have seen it before, but was put off by its plot running contrary to my expectations. For whatever reason, I believed it would be a quaint fairy tale about the ghost of an old woman - Margaret Rutherford - living in a family’s house. A light and frothy Beetlejuice, you might say. It turned out that that’s not what it’s about at all, instead it’s a dryly witty and camp situation comedy about fidelity and martinis. Yes, there is a ghost, but it’s not Rutherford. She is great, though. She plays an eccentric (is there any other kind?) medium. Since I was prepared for something other than my original expectations this time, I enjoyed it far more. In fact, I may even use my next Audible credit on a set of dramatisations of a selection of Noel Coward plays, since he was the writer of Blithe Spirit.
So, yes, I think that’s just about all for now. I’m sure I’ll update you with more ramblings soon enough.
Do stay in touch, darlings!
Toodles!
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HEALTH UPDATE
So, you’ve decided to stay for the long haul. Jolly good show, old bean!
I went for my appointment with the nurse at my GP surgery on Wednesday. She was very friendly and seemed a little wet behind the ears which, unlike the café incident above, actually served to calm me down. She took three vials of blood for yet more diabetes tests (I forget what they were for exactly) and gave me a blood self-testing kit. The kit is very simple to use, but the major downside is that I have to stab myself in the finger twice a day for a month to draw blood. This morning, it took me three attempts before the machine would accept my sample. It was a bloodbath. Semen has blood in it, so wouldn’t it be easier if I just wanked over it? Oh, who knows. Any old excuse, huh?
To make the above process slightly easier, the nurse gave me a bag of automatic stabbers, which takes the self-harm aspect of the grisly task out of the equation. I am incredibly squeamish, and doubt I’d have been able to cut myself with a blade knowingly. These little devices simply require the quick push of a button from the user, and a blade pops in and out automatically. Then out comes the old red stuff! It’s genius. Still fucking hurts though.
I’m having to keep these blood test results on my laptop, as the diary booklet she gave me is far too small for me to use (what with my visual impairment). I’ll transpose the data over to a large sheet of paper using a marker pen when I have to hand them into the doctor.
Sorted.
I’m adjusting quite well to avoiding sugary food and drinks since my diagnosis as, even though I do enjoy them, I am generally known for not having a particularly sweet tooth. I much prefer savoury snacks. It is tricky when I’m out and about, as my instinct is just to grab a generic bottle of pop from the fridge section of wherever I am, but now I’m having to aim for the plain water section. Again, this is more about breaking old habits, rather than having a craving for something sugary.
Having to deal with my diabetes diagnosis is proving to be somewhat trickier due to a friend being away a lot at the moment. Our regular chats have helped me keep my mind off things over the years and boosted my mood and confidence in general. However, their absence at such an unexpectedly emotion time for me is proving to be something that requires adjustment. Perhaps it’s a sign that I just need to make more friends and get out more, which is no bad thing. Still, it’s all been rather trying.
Anyway, that’s all for now.
Thanks for reading!
Yesterday, I went via the city centre to one of the more ethnic parts of town. It’s a very fun street, full of exotic cafes, restaurants and independent shops. It’s almost jarring when you’re walking along and you see a chain business there. They curiously stand out. I went to an Asian café for a relaxing drink, with the option of a bite to eat. I’m trying to phase out going to the pub due to my recent health issues, so nestling into the corner of a coffee shop seemed like the perfect alternative. I’m not feeling quite as spaced-out as I was, possibly due to my new medication, but I was still able to sit chilling for a couple of hours without feeling too self-conscious. I was counting on my recent lightheadedness to help me relax. It was, as mentioned previously, an odd little bonus of my recent diagnosis.
I did a search for cafes on that street before heading out, but I was still unsure whether I’d find any of them. Luckily I did, almost by accident, and went in for a seat. It was decorated more like a restaurant than a café but, due to their casual takeout service, they definitely seemed to be going for the coffee shop-vibe. I felt a little intimidated at first, as my night-blindness kicked in when I first walked in (as usual). Thankfully, the waitress approached me pretty much straight away and told me just to grab a seat and she’d be along shortly. I sat as close to the exit as possible, so I could street-watch (also so I could have a little more natural light). It was the waitresses first day on the job, so she was even more confused and nervous than I was which, in turn, conspired to increase my anxiety at my being in a new place. I really could have done with someone more experienced serving me, but we seemed to get there in the end. When she turned up to ask me what I wanted, I gave her my drinks order and she spent a few minutes jabbing at her ordering pad (quite what’s wrong with the old-fashioned pen and paper that has serviced waiters for hundreds of years is quite beyond me), making me obviously assume she was inputting my request. Afterwards, she looked up and asked me what I wanted again, which confused me. After a fumbled back and forth, she finally divulged that it was her first day, to which I rather too profusely exclaimed: “Ohhh!”, as if her admission had explained something that was hanging over the situation. It was a little insensitive of me but, like I said, I was rather nervous. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I had two coffees, a bottle of water and a spicy omelette. The waitress seemed to think it was strange me ordering the omelette, as the menu boasted it having four eggs in its recipe, but it was surprisingly light, and I had no trouble in finishing it. Even the owner of the café remarked on my ability to eat it all when I got up to pay. I became slightly self-conscious by both of these remarks. I suppose I do have a large appetite. It just seemed like they were implying, with a glance at my figure, that I didn’t need any more eggs in my diet. But that certainly wasn’t said explicitly. They were all extremely polite, and I think I’ll return next week. I’m assuming it’s a quality place, as it did get rather busy at one stage. It’s always encouraging when you find an ethnic restaurant where the likewise ethnic folk actually eat at in large numbers. Is that racist? It’s not meant to be.
After what turned out to be my lunch, I headed along the street to the Asian supermarket that I used to go to quite regularly. I’m not sure what made me stop. Perhaps a drop in my mobility a few years ago. I bought three bags of fresh chillies (they have a great assortment) and a pack of paprika powder, all of which came to less than £2. From a chain supermarket, the same basket of goods would come to around £5. I almost expected the checkout woman to admit that she’d made a mistake and recalculate. But she didn’t. Amazing. I will be back there too.
I made the mistake afterwards of waiting for a bus home next to the big indoor market in town. It’s a terrible place to stand in summer, as the buildings and concrete paving reflect the sun and heat back at you quite intensely. I should have made my way around to the bus station or just gotten a taxi. I have no idea why I didn’t. I guess I just forgot how horrible it was waiting there.
This whole journey was undertaken with very little physical exertion, which has been one of the bonuses of losing weight this year. Before, just walking down to the bus stop around the corner from my home would render me on the verge of a heart attack, but now I can go anywhere without having to plan for shortcuts and sit-downs. It’s really boosting my confidence. The only remaining issue is, of course, my visual impairment, which will forever make things difficult. I guess I don’t need to explain why.
As I got home after the bus ride, I noticed a cooker had been added to the furniture dumped outside by whoever is emptying their flat. I initially assumed it was my neighbour downstairs - “Karaoke Girl” - as she has family over, who I thought were here to help her with taking down the interior of the property. It suddenly dawned on me last night that the two things may very well be a coincidence, and that it may not be her stuff that’s being abandoned for the council to collect. I really hope it is her moving, as her loud music-listening sessions have become intolerable, especially since it’s summer and all our windows are open. There’s still a chance it is her, but I’m trying to keep an open mind about it. Anyway, her replacement could be even worse, you never know. At least my antisocial neighbours are giving me an extra excuse to bugger off out the house for a few hours.
I’m going through a classic movie phase at the moment, of which I have an abundance in my video collection. I’m finding them nice to watch in bed at night before I settle down to sleep. I’ve gone off sitcoms slightly, but I’m sure that desire will return soon enough. This week, I’m checking out some of the films in my David Lean boxset. The collection comprises his earlier, pre-epic, works, which are a lot of fun. I’m sure I’ll manage to sit through the entirety of the tiresome Ryan’s Daughter one day. I’ve not managed it yet though. Last night, I watched Blithe Spirit. I have seen it before, but was put off by its plot running contrary to my expectations. For whatever reason, I believed it would be a quaint fairy tale about the ghost of an old woman - Margaret Rutherford - living in a family’s house. A light and frothy Beetlejuice, you might say. It turned out that that’s not what it’s about at all, instead it’s a dryly witty and camp situation comedy about fidelity and martinis. Yes, there is a ghost, but it’s not Rutherford. She is great, though. She plays an eccentric (is there any other kind?) medium. Since I was prepared for something other than my original expectations this time, I enjoyed it far more. In fact, I may even use my next Audible credit on a set of dramatisations of a selection of Noel Coward plays, since he was the writer of Blithe Spirit.
So, yes, I think that’s just about all for now. I’m sure I’ll update you with more ramblings soon enough.
Do stay in touch, darlings!
Toodles!
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HEALTH UPDATE
So, you’ve decided to stay for the long haul. Jolly good show, old bean!
I went for my appointment with the nurse at my GP surgery on Wednesday. She was very friendly and seemed a little wet behind the ears which, unlike the café incident above, actually served to calm me down. She took three vials of blood for yet more diabetes tests (I forget what they were for exactly) and gave me a blood self-testing kit. The kit is very simple to use, but the major downside is that I have to stab myself in the finger twice a day for a month to draw blood. This morning, it took me three attempts before the machine would accept my sample. It was a bloodbath. Semen has blood in it, so wouldn’t it be easier if I just wanked over it? Oh, who knows. Any old excuse, huh?
To make the above process slightly easier, the nurse gave me a bag of automatic stabbers, which takes the self-harm aspect of the grisly task out of the equation. I am incredibly squeamish, and doubt I’d have been able to cut myself with a blade knowingly. These little devices simply require the quick push of a button from the user, and a blade pops in and out automatically. Then out comes the old red stuff! It’s genius. Still fucking hurts though.
I’m having to keep these blood test results on my laptop, as the diary booklet she gave me is far too small for me to use (what with my visual impairment). I’ll transpose the data over to a large sheet of paper using a marker pen when I have to hand them into the doctor.
Sorted.
I’m adjusting quite well to avoiding sugary food and drinks since my diagnosis as, even though I do enjoy them, I am generally known for not having a particularly sweet tooth. I much prefer savoury snacks. It is tricky when I’m out and about, as my instinct is just to grab a generic bottle of pop from the fridge section of wherever I am, but now I’m having to aim for the plain water section. Again, this is more about breaking old habits, rather than having a craving for something sugary.
Having to deal with my diabetes diagnosis is proving to be somewhat trickier due to a friend being away a lot at the moment. Our regular chats have helped me keep my mind off things over the years and boosted my mood and confidence in general. However, their absence at such an unexpectedly emotion time for me is proving to be something that requires adjustment. Perhaps it’s a sign that I just need to make more friends and get out more, which is no bad thing. Still, it’s all been rather trying.
Anyway, that’s all for now.
Thanks for reading!
Tuesday, 30 July 2019
Mischief below
Hello! I don’t have a great deal to update you with, but I shall endeavour to pad out my goings on with a generous infusion of incoherent wittering nonetheless. Health updates will come after my final send-off, as optional reading material.
I’m currently trying to work out what’s going on downstairs with my neighbour - “Karaoke Girl”. As mentioned in my previous post, her mother and younger siblings are spending the week down there in her one bedroom flat, making as much noise as you can imagine. One of two things seem to be happening: either Karaoke Girl is moving out, and her mother is there to help her empty the flat, or she’s doing some interior decorating and is, alarmingly, here to stay. The evidence I have is that they’ve dumped a lot of furniture downstairs by the wheelie bins, including a sofa, but I haven’t heard any replacement stuff arrive. It would seem strange for one to stay in a person’s home if they’re removing all their furniture (where would you end up sitting and sleeping?), which is why I fear she is simply upgrading her interior. However, I overheard her male partner referring to Karaoke Girl’s mother as “my in-laws”, so perhaps she’s just gotten married and is about to move into a bigger property with her new husband. Oh how I hope this is the case.
Another annoyance is that her siblings misbehave a lot, and their mother’s style of disciplining is to just swear and shout at them. I’ve literally just heard her threaten to “break [their] fucking head”. Charming. This, of course, has no effect whatsoever, so the infantile noisemaking is pretty much constant. I really , really, really cannot wait till they all bugger off for good.
In other news, I tried popping out to the pub yesterday, just to see whether I’d enjoy the experience now that I’m a little more relaxed. Before, I was finding my temper quite short, mainly due to not knowing what was wrong with my body. I was quite frustrated at life in general. Generally, I found myself more chilled yesterday, and didn’t feel the need to drink heavily; however, I did end up barfing it all back up after getting home. I usually don’t vomit when I drink unless I’ve ODd on spirits, so this was quite unlike me. When I was sat at the bus stop before arriving at the pub, I did think to myself: “You know what? I would really be quite happy just sitting in a quiet coffee shop, drinking tea and staring out the window for hours”. I think this will be the plan from now on. Methinks my pubbing days are over.
I’m still soldiering on with the two weighty audiobooks I’m currently listening to: Swann’s Way and Les Misérables. The latter is very entertaining, and I’m finding Victor Hugo’s liberal sensibilities and subversive humour very much akin to that of James Joyce, whom I adore. I only wish somebody had warned me that the main protagonist doesn’t turn up until fourteen chapters in, before which we get a bunch of information about the bishop of a small town who ends up serving only a very minor role in the overall story. I was very confused at first, and legitimately thought I was listening to the wrong book. Even though Hugo digresses somewhat, it all still rolls along at a good pace. Alternately, Swann’s Way is incredibly ponderous, as Marcel Proust often spends the equivalent of an entire chapter (the book is liberally divided into three or so parts, rather than having short chapter breaks) describing inconsequential objects or events, such as a church steeple or his housekeeper’s routine. Nothing of note really happens. It is, however, very amiable, incredibly French and uninhibitedly gay. It’s quite wonderful, basically.
I’ve just been researching which film adaptation of Les Misérables to invest in, although I’m not sure whether to wait until I’ve finished reading the book first. It’s a very long book, so there’s a real chance I may never finish it. The versions I’ve settled on are the 1934 French film and the 1998 Liam Neeson-starring one. The former is supposed to be the best adaptation out of the many, however I do remember quite enjoying a few scenes in the 1998 one when I caught it on television many years ago. Maybe I’ll purchase both.
My ex-girlfriend has been messaging me on Facebook and posting links on my timeline quite a bit this week. She often does it during the day, so I’m wondering whether she’s on long-term sick from work yet again. I’m avoiding any talk of local events and whathaveyou so as not to encourage talk of a meeting, as I feel those days are done. I told her over Christmas that I was fed up with her behaviour and wanted no more to do with her, but she somehow managed to stick around. Who knows what will end up happening. It’s an unknown quantity that slightly unsettles me. Oh well.
I’ve noticed I’ve started playing guitar a little more this week. While I was waiting for medical results etc. and getting rather anxious, I had pretty much stopped playing altogether. But that seems to have been only temporary. I’ve even started practicing in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep. I feel like I haven’t done that for ages. I do enjoy being creative, so it concerned me greatly when I lost my passion for doing, well, anything. Let’s take things slow and see if I can keep up my productivity. To what end? Who knows.
Now that I’m done with Will & Grace, I’ve started back up with the Frasier boxset. I wasn’t enjoying it at first, but the series really does pick up around the last disc of the first season (episodes 19-24, I believe). I don’t know what changed. Perhaps they employed some better comedy writers, or the actors simply settled into their characters a little more. But, yes, if you’re a first-time viewer, do persevere for those first few discs. It all starts off a little creaky.
Well, anyway, I think that’s enough for now. I do hope you’ve enjoyed yourselves.
Do stay in touch, darlings.
Toodles!
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HEALTH UPDATE
I’ve just started taking my diabetes medication as of Saturday. I will end up having to take four a day, but my doctor started me on just the one, as the side effects are quite severe. Today is when I up the dosage to two, so I’m curious to see how that will make me feel. The main things I’ve noticed so far are nausea and headaches, neither of which are that extreme, so I’m coping.
One symptom of the illness is light-headedness which, oddly enough, I’m quite liking. I’ve suffered from clinical depression since around the time I hit puberty, so being spaced-out most of the time and generally not caring about stuff is like taking a holiday. The downside to this is that I struggle to concentrate on things and don’t seem bothered about working on my fiction writing, but there’s a very real possibility that this won’t make much of a difference. I was one of life’s great procrastinators before I came down with diabetes anyway, so hey-ho.
Well, all that’s left to say is that I’ve got that nurses appointment tomorrow, where she’ll be coaching me on living with this condition, so that’ll be interesting/upsetting. I shall report back.
Thanks for reading.
I’m currently trying to work out what’s going on downstairs with my neighbour - “Karaoke Girl”. As mentioned in my previous post, her mother and younger siblings are spending the week down there in her one bedroom flat, making as much noise as you can imagine. One of two things seem to be happening: either Karaoke Girl is moving out, and her mother is there to help her empty the flat, or she’s doing some interior decorating and is, alarmingly, here to stay. The evidence I have is that they’ve dumped a lot of furniture downstairs by the wheelie bins, including a sofa, but I haven’t heard any replacement stuff arrive. It would seem strange for one to stay in a person’s home if they’re removing all their furniture (where would you end up sitting and sleeping?), which is why I fear she is simply upgrading her interior. However, I overheard her male partner referring to Karaoke Girl’s mother as “my in-laws”, so perhaps she’s just gotten married and is about to move into a bigger property with her new husband. Oh how I hope this is the case.
Another annoyance is that her siblings misbehave a lot, and their mother’s style of disciplining is to just swear and shout at them. I’ve literally just heard her threaten to “break [their] fucking head”. Charming. This, of course, has no effect whatsoever, so the infantile noisemaking is pretty much constant. I really , really, really cannot wait till they all bugger off for good.
In other news, I tried popping out to the pub yesterday, just to see whether I’d enjoy the experience now that I’m a little more relaxed. Before, I was finding my temper quite short, mainly due to not knowing what was wrong with my body. I was quite frustrated at life in general. Generally, I found myself more chilled yesterday, and didn’t feel the need to drink heavily; however, I did end up barfing it all back up after getting home. I usually don’t vomit when I drink unless I’ve ODd on spirits, so this was quite unlike me. When I was sat at the bus stop before arriving at the pub, I did think to myself: “You know what? I would really be quite happy just sitting in a quiet coffee shop, drinking tea and staring out the window for hours”. I think this will be the plan from now on. Methinks my pubbing days are over.
I’m still soldiering on with the two weighty audiobooks I’m currently listening to: Swann’s Way and Les Misérables. The latter is very entertaining, and I’m finding Victor Hugo’s liberal sensibilities and subversive humour very much akin to that of James Joyce, whom I adore. I only wish somebody had warned me that the main protagonist doesn’t turn up until fourteen chapters in, before which we get a bunch of information about the bishop of a small town who ends up serving only a very minor role in the overall story. I was very confused at first, and legitimately thought I was listening to the wrong book. Even though Hugo digresses somewhat, it all still rolls along at a good pace. Alternately, Swann’s Way is incredibly ponderous, as Marcel Proust often spends the equivalent of an entire chapter (the book is liberally divided into three or so parts, rather than having short chapter breaks) describing inconsequential objects or events, such as a church steeple or his housekeeper’s routine. Nothing of note really happens. It is, however, very amiable, incredibly French and uninhibitedly gay. It’s quite wonderful, basically.
I’ve just been researching which film adaptation of Les Misérables to invest in, although I’m not sure whether to wait until I’ve finished reading the book first. It’s a very long book, so there’s a real chance I may never finish it. The versions I’ve settled on are the 1934 French film and the 1998 Liam Neeson-starring one. The former is supposed to be the best adaptation out of the many, however I do remember quite enjoying a few scenes in the 1998 one when I caught it on television many years ago. Maybe I’ll purchase both.
My ex-girlfriend has been messaging me on Facebook and posting links on my timeline quite a bit this week. She often does it during the day, so I’m wondering whether she’s on long-term sick from work yet again. I’m avoiding any talk of local events and whathaveyou so as not to encourage talk of a meeting, as I feel those days are done. I told her over Christmas that I was fed up with her behaviour and wanted no more to do with her, but she somehow managed to stick around. Who knows what will end up happening. It’s an unknown quantity that slightly unsettles me. Oh well.
I’ve noticed I’ve started playing guitar a little more this week. While I was waiting for medical results etc. and getting rather anxious, I had pretty much stopped playing altogether. But that seems to have been only temporary. I’ve even started practicing in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep. I feel like I haven’t done that for ages. I do enjoy being creative, so it concerned me greatly when I lost my passion for doing, well, anything. Let’s take things slow and see if I can keep up my productivity. To what end? Who knows.
Now that I’m done with Will & Grace, I’ve started back up with the Frasier boxset. I wasn’t enjoying it at first, but the series really does pick up around the last disc of the first season (episodes 19-24, I believe). I don’t know what changed. Perhaps they employed some better comedy writers, or the actors simply settled into their characters a little more. But, yes, if you’re a first-time viewer, do persevere for those first few discs. It all starts off a little creaky.
Well, anyway, I think that’s enough for now. I do hope you’ve enjoyed yourselves.
Do stay in touch, darlings.
Toodles!
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.
.
.
HEALTH UPDATE
I’ve just started taking my diabetes medication as of Saturday. I will end up having to take four a day, but my doctor started me on just the one, as the side effects are quite severe. Today is when I up the dosage to two, so I’m curious to see how that will make me feel. The main things I’ve noticed so far are nausea and headaches, neither of which are that extreme, so I’m coping.
One symptom of the illness is light-headedness which, oddly enough, I’m quite liking. I’ve suffered from clinical depression since around the time I hit puberty, so being spaced-out most of the time and generally not caring about stuff is like taking a holiday. The downside to this is that I struggle to concentrate on things and don’t seem bothered about working on my fiction writing, but there’s a very real possibility that this won’t make much of a difference. I was one of life’s great procrastinators before I came down with diabetes anyway, so hey-ho.
Well, all that’s left to say is that I’ve got that nurses appointment tomorrow, where she’ll be coaching me on living with this condition, so that’ll be interesting/upsetting. I shall report back.
Thanks for reading.
Friday, 26 July 2019
Nesting instinct
Good evening! Here is a summary of my general goings on for your weekend perusal. I’ve not included any health updates in the main body of text (nor will I in future posts), instead placing them after my usual send-off, making it more of an optional thing for you to read. I feel it necessary to get said stuff off my chest for my own sanity but, as mentioned in my previous post, I’m aware that the subject matter may not be particularly fun for people to read.
Anyway… onwards!
I’m not sure what the exact temperature is, but I think it’s safe to say that it’s pretty bloody fucking hot. It’s like when I was out playing as a kid and didn’t have a watch on but, by the general dimming of the light, knew that I was out way past my bedtime and should probably expect a telling off. I don’t need to know the precise centigrade. I get it. It’s a hot one.
I’m amazed I got through the night actually, as there was definitely a point where I thought to myself: “I’m never gonna be able to sleep in this!”. I did though. Somehow. I only wish I remembered how I did it. Giving up on trying probably helped. I usually have to trick myself into unconsciousness anyway.
I did try ordering an electric fan from the supermarket (to be delivered with my usual weekly grocery order), but it didn’t arrive. I’m guessing there was a rush on them at the supermarket. It was a bit of a long shot, and I think I would have actually been more surprised if it had turned up. Oh well, I’m managing to survive with the torn-off sheet of cardboard that I’m wafting myself with. Fancy, huh?
In bed, before the promise of sleep looms, I’m currently delving into the fifth season of Will & Grace. Usually, I stop at the end of the fourth season, but I thought I’d push the boat out and see if anything after that is watchable. The two titular characters falling out on the first disc is very upsetting, which I think is why I usually avoid it. But, after that (where Will becomes truly loathsome), things do pick up. In fact, there are a surprising amount of memorable comedy moments to enjoy in Season 5, which I’d totally forgotten about. One of the key problems, though, is that it’s brimming-over with celebrity cameos. It gets to the point where every episode has someone famous making a guest appearance. It’s quite exhausting. You start to pine for a simple storyline. A “bottle episode”, even. But some of the cameos are actually really fun, in particular Elton John as the head of the “gay mafia” and Gene Wilder as Will’s new day-to-day boss (Gregory Hines’ replacement). But, yeah, after a while, it all starts to get a bit much, but I think I’ll permanently add the fifth season to my watching experience. Four was too few.
I think my downstairs neighbour, whom I’ve come to nickname “Karaoke Girl” due to her drunken, late-night singalong sessions with friends, has her mother visiting. Possibly even staying under the same roof. As it turns out, her mother is louder, stupider and even more inconsiderate than she is, so you can imagine how much fun I’m having this week. It’s actually quite amazing how unpleasant she is. I think Karaoke Girl must have a much younger brother and sister who’re also staying, as there’s suddenly a lot of noise from kids down there. I believe the sister's name is "Miley", which says it all really. I’m not too sure how so many people are able to fit into a one bedroom flat for more than a brief visit, but they seem to be managing it. I think they’ve turned their balcony into a temporary living room, so sometimes I don’t bother with the television. Their scally cackling is entertaining enough.
Speaking of balconies, I finally got my arse into gear and ordered that small patio set to place out on mine. I’ve lived here eight years and have only unlocked the balcony door two or three times. Once the set arrived, I was very relieved to find that I didn’t need to assemble anything. It’s a folding set, so it all fit into its delivery box in one piece. Well, three pieces, as there’s a table and two chairs, but you know what I mean. The plan is to sit out there very early when I have my morning coffee. Any time after that will be when passersby will start to show an interest and possibly verbally abuse me. Especially teenagers and immature adults. So, fingers crossed I can keep to a sensible sleep pattern that will allow me to make use of my new kit.
Right, I think that’s all for now. I best go sort some food out. I’m a growing lad, after all.
Hope you all have a nice weekend. Do let me know what you’re up to.
Toodles!
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.
.
.
HEALTH UPDATE
So, yes, here we are with a few updates regarding my recent diabetes diagnosis.
My doctor just rang to discuss the results of the blood test I had retaken yesterday. This retake was just to confirm 100% that I have it, and that no mix-ups took place at the clinic. I do have it, and it’s Type 2. This means I just need to take some oral medication and try to lower my sugar intake, rather than having to inject myself with insulin every day (which is what you have to do with Type 1). It’s obviously still bad, but it appears, so far, to be the lesser of two evils.
I’ve now got an appointment with a nurse next week, who will train me on managing this medical condition. I’ll be given a machine to monitor my blood sugar levels, which will be interesting/a pain in the arse, plus I think I’ll be having more blood tests, which will be painful.
I asked the doctor over the phone whether I’d be able to drink alcohol with diabetes, to which the doctor said “yes”. However, while it’s still quite new and I’m learning how to cope, he recommended just taking a break from it for a while. I’m sure I’ll manage, as I had stopped enjoying boozing anyway. Or at least going out to have a drink. I may still just stay in and get drunk while watching bad movies. It’s fine.
That’s all for now, I’ll update you with more as it crops up.
Thanks for reading!
Anyway… onwards!
I’m not sure what the exact temperature is, but I think it’s safe to say that it’s pretty bloody fucking hot. It’s like when I was out playing as a kid and didn’t have a watch on but, by the general dimming of the light, knew that I was out way past my bedtime and should probably expect a telling off. I don’t need to know the precise centigrade. I get it. It’s a hot one.
I’m amazed I got through the night actually, as there was definitely a point where I thought to myself: “I’m never gonna be able to sleep in this!”. I did though. Somehow. I only wish I remembered how I did it. Giving up on trying probably helped. I usually have to trick myself into unconsciousness anyway.
I did try ordering an electric fan from the supermarket (to be delivered with my usual weekly grocery order), but it didn’t arrive. I’m guessing there was a rush on them at the supermarket. It was a bit of a long shot, and I think I would have actually been more surprised if it had turned up. Oh well, I’m managing to survive with the torn-off sheet of cardboard that I’m wafting myself with. Fancy, huh?
In bed, before the promise of sleep looms, I’m currently delving into the fifth season of Will & Grace. Usually, I stop at the end of the fourth season, but I thought I’d push the boat out and see if anything after that is watchable. The two titular characters falling out on the first disc is very upsetting, which I think is why I usually avoid it. But, after that (where Will becomes truly loathsome), things do pick up. In fact, there are a surprising amount of memorable comedy moments to enjoy in Season 5, which I’d totally forgotten about. One of the key problems, though, is that it’s brimming-over with celebrity cameos. It gets to the point where every episode has someone famous making a guest appearance. It’s quite exhausting. You start to pine for a simple storyline. A “bottle episode”, even. But some of the cameos are actually really fun, in particular Elton John as the head of the “gay mafia” and Gene Wilder as Will’s new day-to-day boss (Gregory Hines’ replacement). But, yeah, after a while, it all starts to get a bit much, but I think I’ll permanently add the fifth season to my watching experience. Four was too few.
I think my downstairs neighbour, whom I’ve come to nickname “Karaoke Girl” due to her drunken, late-night singalong sessions with friends, has her mother visiting. Possibly even staying under the same roof. As it turns out, her mother is louder, stupider and even more inconsiderate than she is, so you can imagine how much fun I’m having this week. It’s actually quite amazing how unpleasant she is. I think Karaoke Girl must have a much younger brother and sister who’re also staying, as there’s suddenly a lot of noise from kids down there. I believe the sister's name is "Miley", which says it all really. I’m not too sure how so many people are able to fit into a one bedroom flat for more than a brief visit, but they seem to be managing it. I think they’ve turned their balcony into a temporary living room, so sometimes I don’t bother with the television. Their scally cackling is entertaining enough.
Speaking of balconies, I finally got my arse into gear and ordered that small patio set to place out on mine. I’ve lived here eight years and have only unlocked the balcony door two or three times. Once the set arrived, I was very relieved to find that I didn’t need to assemble anything. It’s a folding set, so it all fit into its delivery box in one piece. Well, three pieces, as there’s a table and two chairs, but you know what I mean. The plan is to sit out there very early when I have my morning coffee. Any time after that will be when passersby will start to show an interest and possibly verbally abuse me. Especially teenagers and immature adults. So, fingers crossed I can keep to a sensible sleep pattern that will allow me to make use of my new kit.
Right, I think that’s all for now. I best go sort some food out. I’m a growing lad, after all.
Hope you all have a nice weekend. Do let me know what you’re up to.
Toodles!
.
.
.
.
HEALTH UPDATE
So, yes, here we are with a few updates regarding my recent diabetes diagnosis.
My doctor just rang to discuss the results of the blood test I had retaken yesterday. This retake was just to confirm 100% that I have it, and that no mix-ups took place at the clinic. I do have it, and it’s Type 2. This means I just need to take some oral medication and try to lower my sugar intake, rather than having to inject myself with insulin every day (which is what you have to do with Type 1). It’s obviously still bad, but it appears, so far, to be the lesser of two evils.
I’ve now got an appointment with a nurse next week, who will train me on managing this medical condition. I’ll be given a machine to monitor my blood sugar levels, which will be interesting/a pain in the arse, plus I think I’ll be having more blood tests, which will be painful.
I asked the doctor over the phone whether I’d be able to drink alcohol with diabetes, to which the doctor said “yes”. However, while it’s still quite new and I’m learning how to cope, he recommended just taking a break from it for a while. I’m sure I’ll manage, as I had stopped enjoying boozing anyway. Or at least going out to have a drink. I may still just stay in and get drunk while watching bad movies. It’s fine.
That’s all for now, I’ll update you with more as it crops up.
Thanks for reading!
Wednesday, 24 July 2019
The phone call I didn't want
Just some updates for your discrete pleasure.
I went to see the nurse for that blood test this morning. It was rather uneventful, apart from the pain. It’s always nice being out and about first thing. I’m a real morning person. Afterwards, I went into town, which turned out to be a bad idea. Even though it was lunchtime on a weekday, the council or somebody had shut off the main streets in the city centre for some sort of cycle race. They usually do that stuff on weekends, so I was taken rather by surprise. I found myself wishing I’d just gone straight back home. Oh well, at least a bunch of spandex-clad nitwits have proven they can turn their legs around really fast. Good for them.
While in town, I had a quick sandwich from my new favourite sandwich shop near the city hall. I had a chicken, ham, mayo and salad sandwich. Standard size. The big ones are really big.
Because the taxis had vanished from town due to the race, I lugged myself down to the bus station and caught a boiling hot bus home. When I finally got in, I had another shower and chilled on the sofa listening to an audiobook.
About an hour ago, I was surprised to find a missed call from my GP surgery. They don’t usually get back to you so soon. As I waited for my doctor to call me back, it slowly dawned on me that getting a call about a blood test so soon after having it taken is never a good thing. In this case, it was exactly that.
Apparently, my blood sugar level is diabetic, so I’m going back first thing in the morning to retake the test. Just in case. My doctor won’t be there tomorrow, but a nurse will be running me through things, most likely while I say “ok” a lot in an ever fainter voice.
I’m feeling rather numb at the moment, as this is life-changing and threatening news.
I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.
Anyway, just thought I’d say something, as there’s nobody here to talk to.
I’ll keep you updated as things develop, but not too much. I know people talking a lot about their health problems isn’t all that entertaining. I mean, shit happens, right? I’ll try and keep things general, as usual.
Right, I best go and have a panic attack.
Toodles!
I went to see the nurse for that blood test this morning. It was rather uneventful, apart from the pain. It’s always nice being out and about first thing. I’m a real morning person. Afterwards, I went into town, which turned out to be a bad idea. Even though it was lunchtime on a weekday, the council or somebody had shut off the main streets in the city centre for some sort of cycle race. They usually do that stuff on weekends, so I was taken rather by surprise. I found myself wishing I’d just gone straight back home. Oh well, at least a bunch of spandex-clad nitwits have proven they can turn their legs around really fast. Good for them.
While in town, I had a quick sandwich from my new favourite sandwich shop near the city hall. I had a chicken, ham, mayo and salad sandwich. Standard size. The big ones are really big.
Because the taxis had vanished from town due to the race, I lugged myself down to the bus station and caught a boiling hot bus home. When I finally got in, I had another shower and chilled on the sofa listening to an audiobook.
About an hour ago, I was surprised to find a missed call from my GP surgery. They don’t usually get back to you so soon. As I waited for my doctor to call me back, it slowly dawned on me that getting a call about a blood test so soon after having it taken is never a good thing. In this case, it was exactly that.
Apparently, my blood sugar level is diabetic, so I’m going back first thing in the morning to retake the test. Just in case. My doctor won’t be there tomorrow, but a nurse will be running me through things, most likely while I say “ok” a lot in an ever fainter voice.
I’m feeling rather numb at the moment, as this is life-changing and threatening news.
I’m not quite sure what to do with myself.
Anyway, just thought I’d say something, as there’s nobody here to talk to.
I’ll keep you updated as things develop, but not too much. I know people talking a lot about their health problems isn’t all that entertaining. I mean, shit happens, right? I’ll try and keep things general, as usual.
Right, I best go and have a panic attack.
Toodles!
Tuesday, 23 July 2019
Patience, patients and OMG IT'S SO HOT
So we’re finally getting our looooong overdue summer. There was a brief spell earlier in the year, perhaps even unseasonable but, since then, it’s been pretty wet and windy. Now, in the last couple of days, the heat has returned with a vengeance. I was always more of an autumn/winter person until moving to the north of England. Thanks to the undulating nature of this vast city’s topography, extreme wintery conditions tend to shut the place down. Buses stop running and everything. Life is just harder. Down south, the extreme effects of winter never used to bother me. In fact, I don’t think I ever thought about them that much at all. I just liked the cold and got on with the odd patch of black ice. I loved the muted beauty of nature around that time of year, and being able to snuggle up for warmth. Now, up north, winter means anxiety about topping up my energy meters, will-or-won’t-I be able to get food in, and the council estate I live in looking even more desolate than usual. So, to bring us back to my point, while I do prefer the winter temperatures, I’m respecting the summer more, mainly due to how easy it all is. And cheaper. Much, much cheaper.
Yesterday was my long-awaited doctor’s appointment. As mentioned previously, pre-bookable appointments with my regular GP had a waiting time of over a month, and while I’m sure I could have seen another doctor in my surgery sooner, I really wanted to see my regular guy. He’s very gentle and easy to talk to. I just couldn’t imagine seeing someone else with such matters.
I found myself getting anxious in the waiting room beforehand, but not due to my ailments. Just environmental things. There was a mother with a toddler sat behind me, and the toddler would just randomly scream at the top of their voice. Some consistency would have been nice, but it was like they were doing it randomly just to unnerve me. There weren’t, of course, but that’s what it felt like. Also, the PA system seemed to be having problems, so I kept worrying that I’d missed my appointment due to damned technology. I had visions of them making me wait another month for an appointment. I think, in the end, the reception staff let the doctors and nurses know there was a problem, so they started coming out in person to call for patients.
Considering how upset and frightened I’ve been getting about whatever’s up with my body, my doctor was able to put me at ease. In my own headspace, I thought he’d be hitting a big emergency button on his desk and shuttling me off to the hospital against my will. But, of course, that didn’t happen. We had a nice, calm conversation and he made a quick examination. I’m going back on Wednesday to see the nurse so they can run blood tests for anything serious, while the doctor gave me antibiotics on the spot for my skin condition. I think he was quite surprised at how fast and casual I took my clothes off for him when he examined me. It’s not my first time. I’d whip them off on the bus if there was enough interest.
But, anyway, at least there’s a possible end to the condition that’s been rendering me in tears of agony over the past six months or so. It’s also been keeping me indoors more than I’d like and making me feel unclean and morbid. I think we could all do without that.
My doctor did seem a bit, I don’t know, concerned or sad that my decision to see him was almost a last resort. I did say that I’d been to the sexual health clinic at the hospital first and that, in my most extreme moments of pain, considered going to A&E, so that probably didn’t help. The surgery does seem to be shaking up their service of late, so maybe I’m not the only one to stay away. Even the receptionist seemed pleasant and chatty. I was very confused. Maybe they’ve replaced the old, stuck-in-their-ways administration that was putting patients off visiting. It wouldn’t surprise me at all. Never have a job for life, folks, it just twists you into something ugly.
While picking up my antibiotics at the chemist afterwards, I noticed they had a products section labelled “Little Ones”. It was obviously stuff for babies and toddlers, but the phrase “little ones” bothered me. I feel you should always be plain-speaking when it comes to healthcare. No slang. Plus, people with whom English is not their first language may very well be confused by such a local phrase. Just say what it is. Don’t try to be “down with the people”. It’s like when a newsagents decide to actually call themselves “The Paper Shop”. No, call yourselves J. A. Roberts & Son’s Newspaper & Tobacconists. Not “The Dumbass Paper Shop”. Sigh. People, huh?
Oh, I finally watched the 1950 Bette Davis-starring All About Eve last night. This is one of those “films I really should have seen by now” affairs. I dunno, I’ve just never gotten around to it. I really had no expectations about it whatsoever. I didn’t even know what it was about, but I was drawn in immediately by the wonderfully biting opening narration by George Sanders. He’s an actor who I would have loved to have seen having an Awesome Posh British Guy face-off with Trevor Howard. I do believe his real life last words will be my own. The bitterness of them will forever warm my heart.
But anyway, yes, All About Eve was very entertaining, and I was surprised how evil the titular Eve got. The film is listed as a drama, but you could almost file it under “psychological thriller” too. The only thing that prevents that, I suppose, is that Eve never actually commits a crime, which is what usually makes a thriller. She’s just kind of a dick to people. The final moments of the film made for a gleefully satisfying comeuppance. Plus, let us not forget Bette Davis’ famed performance as an aging diva. Oh how I so related to her character. You will be hearing me quote her in future, I’m sure.
It was also one of those experiences that helped confirm my transgenderism. It was a very subtle thing, but I just couldn’t relate to the male characters in any way shape or form. I know I’m fluid, and generally fine with my male body (well, parts of it, at least), but the boorish stuffed-shirts that comprise the male contingent of the cast just seemed like aliens to me. I was all like “Who the hell would want to be like that?!”. Some would, I suppose. Perhaps my gender beachball was floating in the feminine area of the lagoon last night. Who’s to say.
My choice for dining while I watched the film was a Chinese takeaway. I did mention in my last post that I’m wanted to get out to restaurants more, which remains true, however my confidence is quite low at the moment, so I just need a little push to get out the door. I’m hoping last night’s ordering out will be one of the last. Until winter shuts me in, at least.
Anyway, I’ve kept you all for long enough. Don’t forget to pick up a gift bag on the way out, and do look after yourselves.
Toodles!
Yesterday was my long-awaited doctor’s appointment. As mentioned previously, pre-bookable appointments with my regular GP had a waiting time of over a month, and while I’m sure I could have seen another doctor in my surgery sooner, I really wanted to see my regular guy. He’s very gentle and easy to talk to. I just couldn’t imagine seeing someone else with such matters.
I found myself getting anxious in the waiting room beforehand, but not due to my ailments. Just environmental things. There was a mother with a toddler sat behind me, and the toddler would just randomly scream at the top of their voice. Some consistency would have been nice, but it was like they were doing it randomly just to unnerve me. There weren’t, of course, but that’s what it felt like. Also, the PA system seemed to be having problems, so I kept worrying that I’d missed my appointment due to damned technology. I had visions of them making me wait another month for an appointment. I think, in the end, the reception staff let the doctors and nurses know there was a problem, so they started coming out in person to call for patients.
Considering how upset and frightened I’ve been getting about whatever’s up with my body, my doctor was able to put me at ease. In my own headspace, I thought he’d be hitting a big emergency button on his desk and shuttling me off to the hospital against my will. But, of course, that didn’t happen. We had a nice, calm conversation and he made a quick examination. I’m going back on Wednesday to see the nurse so they can run blood tests for anything serious, while the doctor gave me antibiotics on the spot for my skin condition. I think he was quite surprised at how fast and casual I took my clothes off for him when he examined me. It’s not my first time. I’d whip them off on the bus if there was enough interest.
But, anyway, at least there’s a possible end to the condition that’s been rendering me in tears of agony over the past six months or so. It’s also been keeping me indoors more than I’d like and making me feel unclean and morbid. I think we could all do without that.
My doctor did seem a bit, I don’t know, concerned or sad that my decision to see him was almost a last resort. I did say that I’d been to the sexual health clinic at the hospital first and that, in my most extreme moments of pain, considered going to A&E, so that probably didn’t help. The surgery does seem to be shaking up their service of late, so maybe I’m not the only one to stay away. Even the receptionist seemed pleasant and chatty. I was very confused. Maybe they’ve replaced the old, stuck-in-their-ways administration that was putting patients off visiting. It wouldn’t surprise me at all. Never have a job for life, folks, it just twists you into something ugly.
While picking up my antibiotics at the chemist afterwards, I noticed they had a products section labelled “Little Ones”. It was obviously stuff for babies and toddlers, but the phrase “little ones” bothered me. I feel you should always be plain-speaking when it comes to healthcare. No slang. Plus, people with whom English is not their first language may very well be confused by such a local phrase. Just say what it is. Don’t try to be “down with the people”. It’s like when a newsagents decide to actually call themselves “The Paper Shop”. No, call yourselves J. A. Roberts & Son’s Newspaper & Tobacconists. Not “The Dumbass Paper Shop”. Sigh. People, huh?
Oh, I finally watched the 1950 Bette Davis-starring All About Eve last night. This is one of those “films I really should have seen by now” affairs. I dunno, I’ve just never gotten around to it. I really had no expectations about it whatsoever. I didn’t even know what it was about, but I was drawn in immediately by the wonderfully biting opening narration by George Sanders. He’s an actor who I would have loved to have seen having an Awesome Posh British Guy face-off with Trevor Howard. I do believe his real life last words will be my own. The bitterness of them will forever warm my heart.
But anyway, yes, All About Eve was very entertaining, and I was surprised how evil the titular Eve got. The film is listed as a drama, but you could almost file it under “psychological thriller” too. The only thing that prevents that, I suppose, is that Eve never actually commits a crime, which is what usually makes a thriller. She’s just kind of a dick to people. The final moments of the film made for a gleefully satisfying comeuppance. Plus, let us not forget Bette Davis’ famed performance as an aging diva. Oh how I so related to her character. You will be hearing me quote her in future, I’m sure.
It was also one of those experiences that helped confirm my transgenderism. It was a very subtle thing, but I just couldn’t relate to the male characters in any way shape or form. I know I’m fluid, and generally fine with my male body (well, parts of it, at least), but the boorish stuffed-shirts that comprise the male contingent of the cast just seemed like aliens to me. I was all like “Who the hell would want to be like that?!”. Some would, I suppose. Perhaps my gender beachball was floating in the feminine area of the lagoon last night. Who’s to say.
My choice for dining while I watched the film was a Chinese takeaway. I did mention in my last post that I’m wanted to get out to restaurants more, which remains true, however my confidence is quite low at the moment, so I just need a little push to get out the door. I’m hoping last night’s ordering out will be one of the last. Until winter shuts me in, at least.
Anyway, I’ve kept you all for long enough. Don’t forget to pick up a gift bag on the way out, and do look after yourselves.
Toodles!
Sunday, 21 July 2019
Art and adversity
It’s been a fairly quiet few days. My comings and goings are reluctantly being dictated by whatever the weather decides to do at any given moment. It’s been a very wet summer. Even today, we’re overcast and there’s a cold breeze in the air. I fear it may even rain soon. A big music festival is on in-and-around town, so I feel inclined to avoid that area. Shame really, as I do fancy getting out. Typical, huh?
I went out to the pub briefly on Friday, but that was rather uneventful. It was one of those situations where I forced myself out, thinking it might help my lethargy and mood. It didn’t. If anything, it just made me feel more tired and bitter. I’ve not felt in the mood to drink recently anyway, so that’s obviously making me change how I plan my activities. You can't ben an alcoholic layabout without the alcohol, after all. I’m sure I can find some way of entertaining myself.
At the risk of jinxing it, I have found myself sleeping a little better this week. Perhaps that’s the lack of booze. Who knows. Last night was a little tricky though, as everyone in the neighbourhood seemed to be having a party. I guess it could have been just one big party, but there seemed to be several layers to the drunken soundscape. I got up and crashed on the sofa after a while, as I was getting fed up of overhearing conversations in thick northern accents. I’ve lived here for ten years now, but I still struggle. It seemed to work though, as I woke up next to my laptop hours later with the sun up. I dutifully went back through to my bedroom for a bit before getting up properly. I definitely got my eight hours minimum.
Well, it’s Sunday, so the buses are crap and taxis may be hung up serving that damned music festival. I guess I could always go out for a walk. LOL. Or just order a takeaway later. I’m trying to think what cuisine I fancy. Chinese? Possibly. I’ll see how I feel around five o’clock-ish.
I’m doing a little more audiobook listening and creative writing at the moment, which is filling me with a cautious sense of positivity. I’m leaning more towards wordy classical literature, so during the day I’m reading Marcel Proust’s Swann’s Way, and in bed I’ve just started on Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables. I’m still not sure whether I’m in the main body of text with the latter, or still just the preface. I’m keeping both possibilities open, so as not to get annoyed and confused. The reader of Les Misérables is outrageously French. In a fun way. Neville Jason reads Swann’s Way, who also does the reading for T. H. White’s The Once and Future King series. He’s always a joy to hear, but sadly passed away in 2015, which brings me great sadness. Apparently he appears in Ridley Scott’s The Duellists, so I might pop that on today and keep an ear out for his gentle voice.
Writing-wise, I’ve started on that romance I mentioned a few posts ago. I’ve decided to make it semi-autobiographical, since that was where the inspiration sprang from. I usually prefer writing from a third person perspective, but this time I’m going first. It’s very odd, plus there’s the temptation to ramble, especially if it’s sort-of about oneself. If it gets really bad, I suppose the rambling bits can be trimmed in editing. We shall see. Starting this new piece is also giving me the inspiration to dust off my other two long-form works so, with any luck, I’ll inch myself closer to some sort of completion. Stranger things have happened!
Anyway, I shan’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’re all very busy people.
Do stay in touch.
Toodles!
I went out to the pub briefly on Friday, but that was rather uneventful. It was one of those situations where I forced myself out, thinking it might help my lethargy and mood. It didn’t. If anything, it just made me feel more tired and bitter. I’ve not felt in the mood to drink recently anyway, so that’s obviously making me change how I plan my activities. You can't ben an alcoholic layabout without the alcohol, after all. I’m sure I can find some way of entertaining myself.
At the risk of jinxing it, I have found myself sleeping a little better this week. Perhaps that’s the lack of booze. Who knows. Last night was a little tricky though, as everyone in the neighbourhood seemed to be having a party. I guess it could have been just one big party, but there seemed to be several layers to the drunken soundscape. I got up and crashed on the sofa after a while, as I was getting fed up of overhearing conversations in thick northern accents. I’ve lived here for ten years now, but I still struggle. It seemed to work though, as I woke up next to my laptop hours later with the sun up. I dutifully went back through to my bedroom for a bit before getting up properly. I definitely got my eight hours minimum.
Well, it’s Sunday, so the buses are crap and taxis may be hung up serving that damned music festival. I guess I could always go out for a walk. LOL. Or just order a takeaway later. I’m trying to think what cuisine I fancy. Chinese? Possibly. I’ll see how I feel around five o’clock-ish.
I’m doing a little more audiobook listening and creative writing at the moment, which is filling me with a cautious sense of positivity. I’m leaning more towards wordy classical literature, so during the day I’m reading Marcel Proust’s Swann’s Way, and in bed I’ve just started on Victor Hugo’s Les Misérables. I’m still not sure whether I’m in the main body of text with the latter, or still just the preface. I’m keeping both possibilities open, so as not to get annoyed and confused. The reader of Les Misérables is outrageously French. In a fun way. Neville Jason reads Swann’s Way, who also does the reading for T. H. White’s The Once and Future King series. He’s always a joy to hear, but sadly passed away in 2015, which brings me great sadness. Apparently he appears in Ridley Scott’s The Duellists, so I might pop that on today and keep an ear out for his gentle voice.
Writing-wise, I’ve started on that romance I mentioned a few posts ago. I’ve decided to make it semi-autobiographical, since that was where the inspiration sprang from. I usually prefer writing from a third person perspective, but this time I’m going first. It’s very odd, plus there’s the temptation to ramble, especially if it’s sort-of about oneself. If it gets really bad, I suppose the rambling bits can be trimmed in editing. We shall see. Starting this new piece is also giving me the inspiration to dust off my other two long-form works so, with any luck, I’ll inch myself closer to some sort of completion. Stranger things have happened!
Anyway, I shan’t keep you any longer. I’m sure you’re all very busy people.
Do stay in touch.
Toodles!
Thursday, 18 July 2019
Who said romance is dead
Hello! I just dropped in to throw out some random thoughts, as I’m feeling a bit all over the place this evening. I need to focus my brain and maybe put out some very minor emotional fires.
I went to the hospital today for the second of three hepatitis vaccinations. I’m not exactly sexually active at the moment, so there’s not a great deal of point, but I guess I just thought it’d be something to do. The nurse giving the vaccination was a bit ditzy. She checked my date of birth, but never confirmed my name or address. A bit worrying. Then she failed to give me a slip to take back to the reception to organise my final vaccination. Goodness knows what she injected me with. It hurt like hell, I must say. More than usual. I was expecting two injections actually, but she just gave me one. That made me worry even more.
At least I got out of there sort-of alive. I caught the bus back down into town and had a sandwich just off the high street. I’ve found a place that do very hearty sandwiches. I sat there for ages after eating, just trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of the day. I was almost catatonic. There’s a video of me dithering somewhere on my Twitter feed. I didn’t really fancy window-shopping, as that feels weird now without having someone else with me. I didn’t fancy the pub either, which isn’t like me at all. Usually I’m all like: “Well, there’s always the pub!”, but not today. I just ended up coming straight home. I sort of do fancy the pub now, but it’s a bit late for me. Perhaps I’ll go out tomorrow. I probably shouldn’t though, as I’ve been getting overly emotional when I’m really drunk. I don’t think I’m drinking any more than usual, but my reaction to it is just a bit more intense. I’ve been getting very melodramatic. Maybe I should just leave it for a while and go out for a sit down food lunch somewhere nice. There are so many restaurants I keep meaning to try out, including ones I’ve had deliver too me in the past and I’ve wondered how much better it would be fresh. Takeaways are pretty yucky. We shall see.
I’ve been watching the comedy-drama “Mum” this week, which a friend recommended to me. It’s think it’s now been cancelled after three seasons. I bought the DVDs, as I wasn’t in the mood to fiddle around with an on-demand service. It’s really, really funny, but also poignant and sad. I’m reacting more to the sad aspect of it. Not in a bad way, mind you. It’s just hitting a sombre nerve. I’ve nearly cried a few times now.
I deleted my Gaydar account this week. And the app. I’ve had the account since way before I even started going out with my ex, so that felt kinda sad. It was a website only originally, but now I think they’re focussing more on the hook-up app side of things. My reason for deleting it? Well, I guess, for me, these apps have never proven to be an effective way of meeting the right people. The final straw was being contacted by yet another guy with an angry bio where he ranted about “timewasters” and people without profile pics. Don’t put that stuff in your bio, it’ll just scare off the type of person you’re trying to attract. Sigh.
My romantic plans instead? Combination starter for two (but really for one), salt & pepper tofu, crispy shredded chilli chicken, egg fried rice, Singapore vermicelli, chips and a bottle of coke.
What you having?
Toodles!
I went to the hospital today for the second of three hepatitis vaccinations. I’m not exactly sexually active at the moment, so there’s not a great deal of point, but I guess I just thought it’d be something to do. The nurse giving the vaccination was a bit ditzy. She checked my date of birth, but never confirmed my name or address. A bit worrying. Then she failed to give me a slip to take back to the reception to organise my final vaccination. Goodness knows what she injected me with. It hurt like hell, I must say. More than usual. I was expecting two injections actually, but she just gave me one. That made me worry even more.
At least I got out of there sort-of alive. I caught the bus back down into town and had a sandwich just off the high street. I’ve found a place that do very hearty sandwiches. I sat there for ages after eating, just trying to figure out what I wanted to do with the rest of the day. I was almost catatonic. There’s a video of me dithering somewhere on my Twitter feed. I didn’t really fancy window-shopping, as that feels weird now without having someone else with me. I didn’t fancy the pub either, which isn’t like me at all. Usually I’m all like: “Well, there’s always the pub!”, but not today. I just ended up coming straight home. I sort of do fancy the pub now, but it’s a bit late for me. Perhaps I’ll go out tomorrow. I probably shouldn’t though, as I’ve been getting overly emotional when I’m really drunk. I don’t think I’m drinking any more than usual, but my reaction to it is just a bit more intense. I’ve been getting very melodramatic. Maybe I should just leave it for a while and go out for a sit down food lunch somewhere nice. There are so many restaurants I keep meaning to try out, including ones I’ve had deliver too me in the past and I’ve wondered how much better it would be fresh. Takeaways are pretty yucky. We shall see.
I’ve been watching the comedy-drama “Mum” this week, which a friend recommended to me. It’s think it’s now been cancelled after three seasons. I bought the DVDs, as I wasn’t in the mood to fiddle around with an on-demand service. It’s really, really funny, but also poignant and sad. I’m reacting more to the sad aspect of it. Not in a bad way, mind you. It’s just hitting a sombre nerve. I’ve nearly cried a few times now.
I deleted my Gaydar account this week. And the app. I’ve had the account since way before I even started going out with my ex, so that felt kinda sad. It was a website only originally, but now I think they’re focussing more on the hook-up app side of things. My reason for deleting it? Well, I guess, for me, these apps have never proven to be an effective way of meeting the right people. The final straw was being contacted by yet another guy with an angry bio where he ranted about “timewasters” and people without profile pics. Don’t put that stuff in your bio, it’ll just scare off the type of person you’re trying to attract. Sigh.
My romantic plans instead? Combination starter for two (but really for one), salt & pepper tofu, crispy shredded chilli chicken, egg fried rice, Singapore vermicelli, chips and a bottle of coke.
What you having?
Toodles!
Wednesday, 17 July 2019
Friendship or bust
Just a quick follow-up to my last post. That guy I was going to spend yesterday around town with never ended up messaging me, so I spent the day home alone. He didn’t promise we’d be doing anything, mind you, but I could have done with a simple “yes” or “no” on the day, just to confirm. Never mind, I was woefully underslept anyway, so wasn’t really in the mood to go out. On the plus side, I did manage to stay awake all day, which meant I had a good sleep last night. I don’t think the guy did it on purpose. He’s very busy and a notable scatterbrain, so I’m not angry. Just, I dunno, me. When you’re a bit of a shut-in, you tend to blow these things out of proportion.
Speaking of blowing things out of proportion, I went back to a pub I hadn’t been to since shutting down my old Twitter account. The manager was vaguely connected to what happened (in that my going to their pub was a slight on my character) so I felt like avoiding theirs and most pubs in town for a while. This has now been extended indefinitely. For some reason, I was expecting a welcome back “hello” or something, but the manager just ignored me, even though they were on duty. From my experience, they can run pretty hot and cold anyway, but this seemed different. I doubt I’ll ever go back, or even go into town much in general, again. I tried my best to connect with the larger city community, but that got thrown back in my face. I’m done with this place. Those people just made a very vulnerable person even more isolated and afraid, all in the name of something extremely petty (a restaurant menu, believe it or not). I hope they're proud of their shallow self-righteousness. I'm guessing they are.
Well, to lighten things up a little, I’m feeling full of energy and in high spirits today. I still don’t feel quite with it, but I shall be speaking to my doctor about that this coming Monday. Over the weekend, I was really struggling just to do basic things, but I think that that was to do with all the painkillers I was taking last week. Them ibuprofens ain’t easy to come off. Initially, I thought my health had dropped another big step, so I was majorly freaking out (you may have noticed), but I think it was just the medication comedown.
I just went to the shop for an electricity meter top-up, which felt good. I find it best to get up early if I’m doing something locally. Most of the crazies and drug addicts are still in bed with the dts before lunchtime (this usually includes me). It felt good to get some exercise. Actually, I totally forgot my top-up once I got to the shops and started heading back with just a bag full of snacks, so I had to go to the cornershop around the… erm… corner. While where I live is pretty rough, a few hundred yards around the bend is like Beirut. I survived though. No drama.
I currently have no plans, either personal or social, so I’m just chugging along day-by-day. Perhaps I should make some. I’m living in a semi-fantasy world at the moment where I’ve won the lottery, which probably isn’t very healthy. I generally imagine where I’d move to, the house I’d buy and how I’d settle in, rather than all the cool shit I’d buy. It’s getting so detailed that I’m thinking of turning it into a story. An LGBT romance, perhaps. Yeah, I’ll start working on that and maybe plan an actual getaway. But until then, no, the horizon is pretty flat.
You are welcome to help me change that.
Anyway, I best be off.
Do stay in touch.
Toodles!
Speaking of blowing things out of proportion, I went back to a pub I hadn’t been to since shutting down my old Twitter account. The manager was vaguely connected to what happened (in that my going to their pub was a slight on my character) so I felt like avoiding theirs and most pubs in town for a while. This has now been extended indefinitely. For some reason, I was expecting a welcome back “hello” or something, but the manager just ignored me, even though they were on duty. From my experience, they can run pretty hot and cold anyway, but this seemed different. I doubt I’ll ever go back, or even go into town much in general, again. I tried my best to connect with the larger city community, but that got thrown back in my face. I’m done with this place. Those people just made a very vulnerable person even more isolated and afraid, all in the name of something extremely petty (a restaurant menu, believe it or not). I hope they're proud of their shallow self-righteousness. I'm guessing they are.
Well, to lighten things up a little, I’m feeling full of energy and in high spirits today. I still don’t feel quite with it, but I shall be speaking to my doctor about that this coming Monday. Over the weekend, I was really struggling just to do basic things, but I think that that was to do with all the painkillers I was taking last week. Them ibuprofens ain’t easy to come off. Initially, I thought my health had dropped another big step, so I was majorly freaking out (you may have noticed), but I think it was just the medication comedown.
I just went to the shop for an electricity meter top-up, which felt good. I find it best to get up early if I’m doing something locally. Most of the crazies and drug addicts are still in bed with the dts before lunchtime (this usually includes me). It felt good to get some exercise. Actually, I totally forgot my top-up once I got to the shops and started heading back with just a bag full of snacks, so I had to go to the cornershop around the… erm… corner. While where I live is pretty rough, a few hundred yards around the bend is like Beirut. I survived though. No drama.
I currently have no plans, either personal or social, so I’m just chugging along day-by-day. Perhaps I should make some. I’m living in a semi-fantasy world at the moment where I’ve won the lottery, which probably isn’t very healthy. I generally imagine where I’d move to, the house I’d buy and how I’d settle in, rather than all the cool shit I’d buy. It’s getting so detailed that I’m thinking of turning it into a story. An LGBT romance, perhaps. Yeah, I’ll start working on that and maybe plan an actual getaway. But until then, no, the horizon is pretty flat.
You are welcome to help me change that.
Anyway, I best be off.
Do stay in touch.
Toodles!
Thursday, 11 July 2019
Me, me, me
Hiya, just thought I’d drop by to clear up a few things about what’s been going on with me lately. It does get a bit graphic, so approach with caution.
I’ve still not seen a doctor about the medical condition I originally feared was HIV/AIDs. The two have similar symptoms, so you must forgive me for my melodramatic outbursts over the past month or so. The STI blood tests came back negative, but a skin specialist at the sexual health clinic theorized I may have diabetes and a related chronic skin condition. The latter keeps me in agony every day, and by the sounds of it there’s no cure. I’m popping ibuprofen like nobody’s business. The former is scary, as I don’t know how it’ll affect my body and personality. I feel spaced out a lot and don’t feel like me, which is my ultimate fear. It’s also rather embarrassing as it comes with the “fat people disease” tag. Sigh. I’m not sure how I’ll handle more medical conditions on top of my visual impairment and depression. It’s like the last thing I need right now. Still, I’ll talk to my doctor about all of this and get advice. It’s taking so long to see him because I’m waiting to see my regular GP, who should know my history and might be a little softer with me. He did warn me a few years ago that my blood-sugar level was rising, so I guess I only have myself to blame for not getting checked regularly. Hope he doesn’t rub that in.
I’ve had bouts of suicidal thoughts while all this has been going on, which I’ve diva-like hinted about on social media. A friend did notice and called me up on it, which I feel bad about. When you get so wrapped up in your own neurosis you tend to forget about other people. I’ll be sure to tell the appropriate people in future. I don’t wish to upset anyone, and I appreciate your patience.
In slightly more positive news, a friend at my local pub has mentioned he might like to meet up with me next week for a few beers in town. Meeting new friends after trying to cut ties with my ex has been a priority recently. Networking during lunchtime pub sessions is 100% easier than on a Saturday night. I heartily recommend it to anyone who’s socially awkward like me.
This friend has a girlfriend, so I don’t believe there’s any chance of romance. I don’t find him particularly attractive anyway, so I certainly won’t be making a pass. I’m curious to see how it goes. It’s been a while since I’ve been out alone with someone who wasn’t my ex. You never know though, maybe he might know somebody who might suit me. He has a rather large friend-base.
My sex drive is certainly healthy at the moment, despite my woes. I can generally masturbate in bed without the aid of porn in the morning, which is even easier now that I’ve lost a bit of weight. Turns out the weight loss is probably linked to the diabetes and NOT me coming off my antidepressants, which is why the symptoms went by unnoticed for so long. Sexy, huh? But, yeah, I’ve started to enjoy staying on my back and shooting over my stomach and chest. I can’t get to my mouth yet, which is a shame, as I like the taste of cum. Shall keep trying though.
This afternoon I used an improvised, but protected, dildo. Halfway through I thought I might try DPing myself, which went quite well. These improvised dildos were a lot bigger than that vibrator I bought a few posts ago, so I was very much in anal heaven. It got a bit messy, but I’ve learnt to plan a head and have disposable towels at the ready. I’m a professional! I usually imagine that I’m a girl with two nerdy twinks wanking over me when I destroy my asshole. This all ties in with my fluid sexuality and gender. I’m quite a fan of threesome videos and would like to try the real thing someday. Doubt it’ll ever happen though. DPing myself will just have to do for now.
Anyway, with that vision in mind, I’ll leave y’all to your own devices.
Do stay in touch.
Toodles!
I’ve still not seen a doctor about the medical condition I originally feared was HIV/AIDs. The two have similar symptoms, so you must forgive me for my melodramatic outbursts over the past month or so. The STI blood tests came back negative, but a skin specialist at the sexual health clinic theorized I may have diabetes and a related chronic skin condition. The latter keeps me in agony every day, and by the sounds of it there’s no cure. I’m popping ibuprofen like nobody’s business. The former is scary, as I don’t know how it’ll affect my body and personality. I feel spaced out a lot and don’t feel like me, which is my ultimate fear. It’s also rather embarrassing as it comes with the “fat people disease” tag. Sigh. I’m not sure how I’ll handle more medical conditions on top of my visual impairment and depression. It’s like the last thing I need right now. Still, I’ll talk to my doctor about all of this and get advice. It’s taking so long to see him because I’m waiting to see my regular GP, who should know my history and might be a little softer with me. He did warn me a few years ago that my blood-sugar level was rising, so I guess I only have myself to blame for not getting checked regularly. Hope he doesn’t rub that in.
I’ve had bouts of suicidal thoughts while all this has been going on, which I’ve diva-like hinted about on social media. A friend did notice and called me up on it, which I feel bad about. When you get so wrapped up in your own neurosis you tend to forget about other people. I’ll be sure to tell the appropriate people in future. I don’t wish to upset anyone, and I appreciate your patience.
In slightly more positive news, a friend at my local pub has mentioned he might like to meet up with me next week for a few beers in town. Meeting new friends after trying to cut ties with my ex has been a priority recently. Networking during lunchtime pub sessions is 100% easier than on a Saturday night. I heartily recommend it to anyone who’s socially awkward like me.
This friend has a girlfriend, so I don’t believe there’s any chance of romance. I don’t find him particularly attractive anyway, so I certainly won’t be making a pass. I’m curious to see how it goes. It’s been a while since I’ve been out alone with someone who wasn’t my ex. You never know though, maybe he might know somebody who might suit me. He has a rather large friend-base.
My sex drive is certainly healthy at the moment, despite my woes. I can generally masturbate in bed without the aid of porn in the morning, which is even easier now that I’ve lost a bit of weight. Turns out the weight loss is probably linked to the diabetes and NOT me coming off my antidepressants, which is why the symptoms went by unnoticed for so long. Sexy, huh? But, yeah, I’ve started to enjoy staying on my back and shooting over my stomach and chest. I can’t get to my mouth yet, which is a shame, as I like the taste of cum. Shall keep trying though.
This afternoon I used an improvised, but protected, dildo. Halfway through I thought I might try DPing myself, which went quite well. These improvised dildos were a lot bigger than that vibrator I bought a few posts ago, so I was very much in anal heaven. It got a bit messy, but I’ve learnt to plan a head and have disposable towels at the ready. I’m a professional! I usually imagine that I’m a girl with two nerdy twinks wanking over me when I destroy my asshole. This all ties in with my fluid sexuality and gender. I’m quite a fan of threesome videos and would like to try the real thing someday. Doubt it’ll ever happen though. DPing myself will just have to do for now.
Anyway, with that vision in mind, I’ll leave y’all to your own devices.
Do stay in touch.
Toodles!
Thursday, 4 July 2019
A mind in exile
I’m finally feeling clear headed and inspired enough to put some of my personal thoughts down on “paper” again. Not a great deal has happened in terms of adventuring lately, which is the main reason for my silence; although other things of a rather disquieting nature have. Mainly, my health seems to be declining, which is making me more and more anxious as the days go by. I’m due to see my GP in a couple of weeks (good old NHS waiting lists!) and I’ve got a feeling he’ll have some bad news for me. I won’t go into detail now, as I don’t know anything for sure, but let’s just say that the light that used to be on in the distance is dimming somewhat. I might have to start putting the chairs on the tables soon.
That last sentence sounded so melodramatic that I want to shake myself. Even the title of this post is pretty wanky, but that’s just how I’m feeling. I can’t stop how I’m feeling.
Anyway, my creative side is at an all time low, although I get a burst of inspiration every other day or so. My head’s very clouded and I’m struggling to know why I should bother anymore. I’d blame this negativity on coming off my antidepressants, but I was more motivated before I went on them ten years ago. So I’m concerned it’s something else.
This week I seem to be getting into reading again, which in turn is flaring up my interest in writing (hence this). I’ve got a couple of larger fiction projects going on simultaneously, so I’ll try tackling either one of those at some point over the weekend.
Music-wise, I keep practicing guitar every day, although even this is minimal. I just do some finger exercises and a few chords and scales, then I’m done. The usual “…and then I jammed for a good hour or so” seems to have gone.
What’s keeping me ticking over is my daily routine, which involves video games, movies and the pub. If I didn’t have my well-trod routine to work to, I’d probably not get out of bed at all. Most days I wish I didn’t even wake up.
I can tell how low my self-esteem is by how much stock I put into playing the lottery each week. When I don’t find that email from the lottery people in the morning after each draw, I just want to cry. I’ve convinced myself that nothing else will get me out of this shithole, and then even that probably won’t improve my health.
The one flicker of positivity I have is that there’s a person I like and I think they like me too. I’m good at building things up in my head about, well, everything, so I’m not going to do anything unless they give me a sign that something’s up. I’m pretty passive about these things and usually too shy to say anything, so nothing will probably ever come of it. All I know is that I’ve not felt this strongly about anyone in years. Not even my ex-girlfriend. It feels good to go to bed at night thinking about a person, then wake up the next day still thinking about them. If that’s the last thing I ever feel, then I reckon I’ll be ok about that.
Love is pretty awesome.
Well, I hope y’all are doing well.
Do stay in touch.
Toodles!
That last sentence sounded so melodramatic that I want to shake myself. Even the title of this post is pretty wanky, but that’s just how I’m feeling. I can’t stop how I’m feeling.
Anyway, my creative side is at an all time low, although I get a burst of inspiration every other day or so. My head’s very clouded and I’m struggling to know why I should bother anymore. I’d blame this negativity on coming off my antidepressants, but I was more motivated before I went on them ten years ago. So I’m concerned it’s something else.
This week I seem to be getting into reading again, which in turn is flaring up my interest in writing (hence this). I’ve got a couple of larger fiction projects going on simultaneously, so I’ll try tackling either one of those at some point over the weekend.
Music-wise, I keep practicing guitar every day, although even this is minimal. I just do some finger exercises and a few chords and scales, then I’m done. The usual “…and then I jammed for a good hour or so” seems to have gone.
What’s keeping me ticking over is my daily routine, which involves video games, movies and the pub. If I didn’t have my well-trod routine to work to, I’d probably not get out of bed at all. Most days I wish I didn’t even wake up.
I can tell how low my self-esteem is by how much stock I put into playing the lottery each week. When I don’t find that email from the lottery people in the morning after each draw, I just want to cry. I’ve convinced myself that nothing else will get me out of this shithole, and then even that probably won’t improve my health.
The one flicker of positivity I have is that there’s a person I like and I think they like me too. I’m good at building things up in my head about, well, everything, so I’m not going to do anything unless they give me a sign that something’s up. I’m pretty passive about these things and usually too shy to say anything, so nothing will probably ever come of it. All I know is that I’ve not felt this strongly about anyone in years. Not even my ex-girlfriend. It feels good to go to bed at night thinking about a person, then wake up the next day still thinking about them. If that’s the last thing I ever feel, then I reckon I’ll be ok about that.
Love is pretty awesome.
Well, I hope y’all are doing well.
Do stay in touch.
Toodles!
Tuesday, 11 June 2019
Holding my breath
I went for a check-up at the urology clinic last week, as I was hoping it would clear-up some concerns I’ve been having about my body lately and rule out certain things. I’ve still not received the results but, as I browse the web for my symptoms, I become more and more nervous. If everything’s clear, I’ll get a simple text message from the clinic. If there’s something up, I’ll get a call. I’m now expecting a call.
If it’s the worst thing, then I think I’m more scared of the idea of getting sick, suffering and experiencing pain, rather than what will come after that.
If I do get that call, I just want things to run their deadly course as quickly as possible, if you understand me.
I suddenly feel very alone.
UPDATE: The results came back negative. Yay!
If it’s the worst thing, then I think I’m more scared of the idea of getting sick, suffering and experiencing pain, rather than what will come after that.
If I do get that call, I just want things to run their deadly course as quickly as possible, if you understand me.
I suddenly feel very alone.
UPDATE: The results came back negative. Yay!
Friday, 24 May 2019
Older and unwiser
So it was my birthday yesterday, which I was pretty hungover for. It seems to have become a thing every year where I crack and start drinking a day early. This year I felt pretty miserable the day before, so I just fancied a pick-me-up and, to be fair, it worked. I had a great evening. Just a day early. On the actual day, I got up around 5am, had a shower and started my Disney movie marathon before the rest of the country was up. I guess I just didn’t think staying in bed a few more hours would cure my hangover, so I just got up and got on with it. I really enjoyed the four films I watched, which were The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, Aladdin and The Lion King. While these four films were mega-huge when they came out, I’ve never actually gotten round to watching them, so my birthday seemed like a good excuse for a binge-watch.
Just remind me next year not to get drunk the night before.
I didn’t get many birthday greetings, which is fine, as I don’t really get involved with anyone else’s birthdays. I did get a handful of shout-outs on Twitter from people I do actually care about, so that was awesome. I turned off my DOB on Facebook, which is how those birthday notifications get sent out to everyone. It usually annoys me when I get told of everyone else’s birthday, so I assume it annoys them too. I dunno, maybe I’ll change it for next year. I’ll have a think. We all like a bit of attention now and then, right?
Oh, I did just get a card from mother. A day late. In it she says “I hope you are still friends with [your ex-girlfriend], which was a rather pointless and insensitive addition. I wonder how she’d feel if I said the same to her about her ex-husband. You know: my father, the man with whom she hasn’t spoken with for eighteen years? I’m sure she’d love that.
So, yeah, that’s annoyed me this evening. Mum’s good at that.
Speaking of my ex, it sounds like everyone and their dog has gone to visit her in hospital, so I’ll not bother. Our friendship is done. I only agreed to see her the other week because I wanted to catch up with our mutual friend. It was a bad idea all around. I think it may have given the ex the wrong impression. Silly me.
Right, that’s my mini-rant over and done with.
Hope y’all have a nice long weekend!
Toodles!
Just remind me next year not to get drunk the night before.
I didn’t get many birthday greetings, which is fine, as I don’t really get involved with anyone else’s birthdays. I did get a handful of shout-outs on Twitter from people I do actually care about, so that was awesome. I turned off my DOB on Facebook, which is how those birthday notifications get sent out to everyone. It usually annoys me when I get told of everyone else’s birthday, so I assume it annoys them too. I dunno, maybe I’ll change it for next year. I’ll have a think. We all like a bit of attention now and then, right?
Oh, I did just get a card from mother. A day late. In it she says “I hope you are still friends with [your ex-girlfriend], which was a rather pointless and insensitive addition. I wonder how she’d feel if I said the same to her about her ex-husband. You know: my father, the man with whom she hasn’t spoken with for eighteen years? I’m sure she’d love that.
So, yeah, that’s annoyed me this evening. Mum’s good at that.
Speaking of my ex, it sounds like everyone and their dog has gone to visit her in hospital, so I’ll not bother. Our friendship is done. I only agreed to see her the other week because I wanted to catch up with our mutual friend. It was a bad idea all around. I think it may have given the ex the wrong impression. Silly me.
Right, that’s my mini-rant over and done with.
Hope y’all have a nice long weekend!
Toodles!
Wednesday, 22 May 2019
Intimate packages
Golly, I’ve had a day full of deliveries today! So many nice men coming to my door, but none of them staying. Alas!
The groceries came first thing, which I purposefully booked a very early slot for. The reason for this was to hopefully get everything delivered before the afternoon so I could go swimming but, while the groceries did indeed come on time, the others ended up being just a little too late for my swimming, erm, window.
I kept getting anxious too, as my next door neighbour’s going through a phase of popping in and out of the building constantly throughout the day and night (I have no idea where he goes), so he kept accidentally bumping into my deliveries. I think he’d coincidentally also ordered some groceries for this morning too, so when he heard mine coming, he rushed downstairs to meet the guy and was confused by the fact that it wasn’t his. The same thing happened with one of the later packages, but I think the courier mistook my neighbour for me. Luckily, while dishonest in other ways, my neighbour doesn’t seem to be a parcel stealer like 99% of the folk in this area. Well, suffice to say, everything got through without molestation.
The first of the two afternoon deliveries was a particularly personal item, so I was very glad it didn’t go astray. I decided to treat myself to a prostate massager/vibrator for the bedroom (of course). It came (no pun intended) in a very discreate DVD boxset-sized case and was very easy to set up. They even threw in a battery and some lube, both of which I already had, but I still thought it was nice of them to do it. I’d never used one of these before, but I struggled to believe it would be any more complicated than “just shove it up your arse and press ON”, which it wasn’t.
For me, I found the massager a bit too small. I’ve given it a quick go, but felt very little sensation. Maybe I should watch some porn first, just to get me going. I dunno, I guess I’m more used to larger dildos that totally destroy my ass and hurt like hell, which is kind of my thing. This massager is, by contrast, rather “cute”.
Well, the second afternoon delivery - and third overall today - were my two cases of beer (as mentioned in my last post). These arrived just as I was finishing up testing out the vibrator, so I was rather concerned my hands weren’t fully clean when I signed for it. I’m pretty sure they were. Mostly. Anyway, I was going to wait until after my Disney movie marathon tomorrow to start drinking, but I’m half tempted just to dive into them tonight instead. I’m waking myself up with a coffee as I type, so maybe I won’t need them.
I was surprised none of the bottles were broken actually, as the delivery company was the dreaded Yodel, who’ve become rather notorious over the years for their amateurish delivery skills. But, nope, everything was intact. The delivery guy was lovely too. He said: “I could do with one of these after lugging them up all these stairs!”, to which I should have said “You’re welcome to drop by after work, if you like!” but, of course, I just laughed and awkwardly mumbled something incoherent.
Maybe next time.
Oh, some weird news, my ex has landed herself in hospital. Apparently she has blood clots on/in her lungs, which could be caused by one or more of her medical conditions. The consultant has said she may be kept in for the rest of the week, but I don’t think I’ll go visit her. While I do, of course, care about her wellbeing and wish her well, I’m trying to tie our friendship up, and rushing to see her in hospital is something a boyfriend does. And I’m not that anymore. She’s got plenty of friends and relatives more mobile than myself, so I’m sure they’ll be visiting. I also think she needs a bit of a shock to the system regarding her health in general, so maybe being cooped up alone in a grim NHS hospital for the best part of a week will finally force her into action, rather than her just talking about it. Endlessly. Plus it’s my birthday, so I just don’t wanna go. She ruined enough of my birthdays in the past while we were still going out.
So, yeah, I'll probably go visit her tomorrow.
Anyway, I best go figure out what to do with myself for the rest of the evening.
Toodles!
The groceries came first thing, which I purposefully booked a very early slot for. The reason for this was to hopefully get everything delivered before the afternoon so I could go swimming but, while the groceries did indeed come on time, the others ended up being just a little too late for my swimming, erm, window.
I kept getting anxious too, as my next door neighbour’s going through a phase of popping in and out of the building constantly throughout the day and night (I have no idea where he goes), so he kept accidentally bumping into my deliveries. I think he’d coincidentally also ordered some groceries for this morning too, so when he heard mine coming, he rushed downstairs to meet the guy and was confused by the fact that it wasn’t his. The same thing happened with one of the later packages, but I think the courier mistook my neighbour for me. Luckily, while dishonest in other ways, my neighbour doesn’t seem to be a parcel stealer like 99% of the folk in this area. Well, suffice to say, everything got through without molestation.
The first of the two afternoon deliveries was a particularly personal item, so I was very glad it didn’t go astray. I decided to treat myself to a prostate massager/vibrator for the bedroom (of course). It came (no pun intended) in a very discreate DVD boxset-sized case and was very easy to set up. They even threw in a battery and some lube, both of which I already had, but I still thought it was nice of them to do it. I’d never used one of these before, but I struggled to believe it would be any more complicated than “just shove it up your arse and press ON”, which it wasn’t.
For me, I found the massager a bit too small. I’ve given it a quick go, but felt very little sensation. Maybe I should watch some porn first, just to get me going. I dunno, I guess I’m more used to larger dildos that totally destroy my ass and hurt like hell, which is kind of my thing. This massager is, by contrast, rather “cute”.
Well, the second afternoon delivery - and third overall today - were my two cases of beer (as mentioned in my last post). These arrived just as I was finishing up testing out the vibrator, so I was rather concerned my hands weren’t fully clean when I signed for it. I’m pretty sure they were. Mostly. Anyway, I was going to wait until after my Disney movie marathon tomorrow to start drinking, but I’m half tempted just to dive into them tonight instead. I’m waking myself up with a coffee as I type, so maybe I won’t need them.
I was surprised none of the bottles were broken actually, as the delivery company was the dreaded Yodel, who’ve become rather notorious over the years for their amateurish delivery skills. But, nope, everything was intact. The delivery guy was lovely too. He said: “I could do with one of these after lugging them up all these stairs!”, to which I should have said “You’re welcome to drop by after work, if you like!” but, of course, I just laughed and awkwardly mumbled something incoherent.
Maybe next time.
Oh, some weird news, my ex has landed herself in hospital. Apparently she has blood clots on/in her lungs, which could be caused by one or more of her medical conditions. The consultant has said she may be kept in for the rest of the week, but I don’t think I’ll go visit her. While I do, of course, care about her wellbeing and wish her well, I’m trying to tie our friendship up, and rushing to see her in hospital is something a boyfriend does. And I’m not that anymore. She’s got plenty of friends and relatives more mobile than myself, so I’m sure they’ll be visiting. I also think she needs a bit of a shock to the system regarding her health in general, so maybe being cooped up alone in a grim NHS hospital for the best part of a week will finally force her into action, rather than her just talking about it. Endlessly. Plus it’s my birthday, so I just don’t wanna go. She ruined enough of my birthdays in the past while we were still going out.
So, yeah, I'll probably go visit her tomorrow.
Anyway, I best go figure out what to do with myself for the rest of the evening.
Toodles!
Tuesday, 21 May 2019
Park and tide
I’m trying to keep myself busy at the moment, so I’m making sure I get out to do more activities. Basically, I’ve been concerned I might be turning into a tinfoil hat-wearing kook, so anything other than sitting in front of my laptop worrying about the world is on the agenda.
On Sunday I braved a trip out to Endcliffe Park for some fresh air and a taste of greenery, which was a challenge for me because a) I’d never been before and b) it was a Sunday, so that mean FAMILIES. Actually, I didn’t mind how busy it was (and it was very busy), because it meant I felt safer exploring the place for the first time. After the park (which included an ice cream), I checked out the local area, which is Ecclesall Road/Hunter’s Bar. “Eccy” Road is quite a student accommodation hub, I believe, so it’s like a mini town-within-a-town, with loads of shops, restaurants and pubs. Basically, there’s plenty to do. I’ve been there quite a few times, but not the park. I think if I go for a walk at Endcliffe again, I’ll pop into one of the real ale pubs along Ecclesall Road after. Sounds like a plan!
Well, after figuring out how to get from the park to Ecclesall Road, I caught the first bus heading in the direction of town. I had ten minutes to decide what to do next, so I went with having a Burger King binge down at the train station (they closed the Burger King that was actually in town). I wanted to try their chicken nuggets, as a friend has spoken highly of them, but there may have been a Double Whopper w/ Cheese too. And some chips.
Don’t look at me.
Anyway, I managed to get that all done and get back home before the evening, so I was quite proud of myself. I may switch between Endcliffe and the other parks in Sheffield. I’ve been to Weston Park, the Ponderosa and Hillsborough Park before, so I shall have a think.
Yesterday (Monday) I managed to get out for another swim, which was great. I wasn’t sure whether I’d enjoy the pub afterwards, due to how tiring swimming is, so I initially just popped into my local for a coke and some nuts, but then decided I was good for an ale or two. Four hours later, I finally left. The two activities actually made a fun combination. When I got home I quickly ordered a Chinese takeaway, then had an early night. I’m trying to get into the habit of not continuing drinking after getting home, mainly because I just fall asleep anyway, so it’s a waste of effort ad hoc getting more booze in. I seem to be sticking to this quite well. Which leads us to…
It’s my birthday this week, so I’ve treated myself to a couple of cases of real ale from an online retailer. Somebody recommended one, but it was way too spendy, so I just went browsing on Google, eventually settling on a company called “Beer Hawk”. It seems like good value for money and I didn’t recognise any of the brands in the cases, which was a big plus! They should be coming tomorrow. I did just ring to check my order was placed, and the person told me stuff will be arriving tomorrow (Wednesday) via Yodel. Nooooo! Yodel means half the bottles will be smashed. Sigh.
Oh, I did originally book a hotel in town to get the fuck out of Dodge for a couple of nights for my birthday, but it was so expensive, and cancelling meant I could order all that beer. Perfectly logical, right? I think I’ll save up for a self-catering holiday instead, which is an experience I prefer.
Right, I think that’s all for today’s confessional.
Hope you all are well!
Toodles!
On Sunday I braved a trip out to Endcliffe Park for some fresh air and a taste of greenery, which was a challenge for me because a) I’d never been before and b) it was a Sunday, so that mean FAMILIES. Actually, I didn’t mind how busy it was (and it was very busy), because it meant I felt safer exploring the place for the first time. After the park (which included an ice cream), I checked out the local area, which is Ecclesall Road/Hunter’s Bar. “Eccy” Road is quite a student accommodation hub, I believe, so it’s like a mini town-within-a-town, with loads of shops, restaurants and pubs. Basically, there’s plenty to do. I’ve been there quite a few times, but not the park. I think if I go for a walk at Endcliffe again, I’ll pop into one of the real ale pubs along Ecclesall Road after. Sounds like a plan!
Well, after figuring out how to get from the park to Ecclesall Road, I caught the first bus heading in the direction of town. I had ten minutes to decide what to do next, so I went with having a Burger King binge down at the train station (they closed the Burger King that was actually in town). I wanted to try their chicken nuggets, as a friend has spoken highly of them, but there may have been a Double Whopper w/ Cheese too. And some chips.
Don’t look at me.
Anyway, I managed to get that all done and get back home before the evening, so I was quite proud of myself. I may switch between Endcliffe and the other parks in Sheffield. I’ve been to Weston Park, the Ponderosa and Hillsborough Park before, so I shall have a think.
Yesterday (Monday) I managed to get out for another swim, which was great. I wasn’t sure whether I’d enjoy the pub afterwards, due to how tiring swimming is, so I initially just popped into my local for a coke and some nuts, but then decided I was good for an ale or two. Four hours later, I finally left. The two activities actually made a fun combination. When I got home I quickly ordered a Chinese takeaway, then had an early night. I’m trying to get into the habit of not continuing drinking after getting home, mainly because I just fall asleep anyway, so it’s a waste of effort ad hoc getting more booze in. I seem to be sticking to this quite well. Which leads us to…
It’s my birthday this week, so I’ve treated myself to a couple of cases of real ale from an online retailer. Somebody recommended one, but it was way too spendy, so I just went browsing on Google, eventually settling on a company called “Beer Hawk”. It seems like good value for money and I didn’t recognise any of the brands in the cases, which was a big plus! They should be coming tomorrow. I did just ring to check my order was placed, and the person told me stuff will be arriving tomorrow (Wednesday) via Yodel. Nooooo! Yodel means half the bottles will be smashed. Sigh.
Oh, I did originally book a hotel in town to get the fuck out of Dodge for a couple of nights for my birthday, but it was so expensive, and cancelling meant I could order all that beer. Perfectly logical, right? I think I’ll save up for a self-catering holiday instead, which is an experience I prefer.
Right, I think that’s all for today’s confessional.
Hope you all are well!
Toodles!
Saturday, 18 May 2019
Buzz, beer and bathrooms
Still buzzing slightly after yesterday’s impromptu pub session. I had just had one of those mornings where I couldn’t picture myself being stuck in all day, so I remedied the situation. I didn’t overdo it, simply coming home and falling asleep on the bed afterwards. I don’t seem to be able to do my all day and night drinking sessions anymore. That’s been the case since coming off my antidepressants. The tablets obviously gave me a lot of energy. I guess it’s a good thing that I can’t do it anymore, but I keep forgetting after I’ve had a few and spend money on shop-bought booze which then goes to waste. Well, it stays in the cupboard and gets drank another day, but you get what I mean.
A woman in the pub stopped at my table on her way out to ask me about my eyesight. I’m so used to random crazy people interrogating me about it and me fobbing them off, that I failed to ask her why she was interested. I think she may have been visually impaired too. I think she even had a dog, which may have been a guide dog, but I can’t be sure. I did ask the barman, but he didn’t notice due to how busy the place got. Basically, I feel bad that maybe I could have made a new friend, but oh well. Perhaps I’ll see her again. And I use the term “see” loosely, of course.
I’m starting to think I made the right choice in changing my washing routine. As mentioned in my previous post, I’ve been concerned my flat has contracted fleas somehow, but it may just be an allergic reaction to Dove shower cream. I’ve used a regular bar of soap the last couple of days and I don’t feel itchy or uncomfortable anymore, so I’m hoping it’s worked. I may take the list of ingredients to my doctor and see what he thinks I may have reacted badly to.
Oh, I cleaned the bathroom the other day, which I’m proud of. I found myself at a loss, as I was full of energy but didn’t fancy doing any hobby stuff. Perfect! So I just got in there and started scrubbing. I had been leaving it for waaay to long (until every surface was brown), but now I’m trying to get into a casual routine. I’ve set myself a certain time period in which to do it, so that should give me time to psych myself up. I’m hoping keeping on top of things will improve my overall mental health.
Cleaning the bathroom also meant that I was able to get to the bottom of why my shower had dropped in pressure. Turns out the tube that connects the control unit to the shower head had come loose. The whole thing fell out while I was rinsing the tiles and water just went everywhere. Well, it wasn’t quite that bad, but after screwing it back in it was back to its old destructive high pressure. I’m very happy.
I’m wondering what else to do for my birthday this coming week. I’m doing my Disney marathon on the day, but I guess I should treat myself to something else. Maybe I could spend the night in a posh hotel in town. Hmmm, yeah, that sounds kinda cool. I’ll see how much money I have to spare. It would be nice to get out of the ghetto for a day or two. Which reminds me, since I’ve set up a Direct Debit for the lottery each week, I’ve started browsing for nice properties around town, should I win. I guess it should be depressing but, actually, it’s filling me with hope, inspiration and excitement. Guess I have as much chance of winning as anyone else with one ticket, right? Right.
Anyway, I best be off. Hope you are all doing well. Do drop me a line sometime!
Toodles!
A woman in the pub stopped at my table on her way out to ask me about my eyesight. I’m so used to random crazy people interrogating me about it and me fobbing them off, that I failed to ask her why she was interested. I think she may have been visually impaired too. I think she even had a dog, which may have been a guide dog, but I can’t be sure. I did ask the barman, but he didn’t notice due to how busy the place got. Basically, I feel bad that maybe I could have made a new friend, but oh well. Perhaps I’ll see her again. And I use the term “see” loosely, of course.
I’m starting to think I made the right choice in changing my washing routine. As mentioned in my previous post, I’ve been concerned my flat has contracted fleas somehow, but it may just be an allergic reaction to Dove shower cream. I’ve used a regular bar of soap the last couple of days and I don’t feel itchy or uncomfortable anymore, so I’m hoping it’s worked. I may take the list of ingredients to my doctor and see what he thinks I may have reacted badly to.
Oh, I cleaned the bathroom the other day, which I’m proud of. I found myself at a loss, as I was full of energy but didn’t fancy doing any hobby stuff. Perfect! So I just got in there and started scrubbing. I had been leaving it for waaay to long (until every surface was brown), but now I’m trying to get into a casual routine. I’ve set myself a certain time period in which to do it, so that should give me time to psych myself up. I’m hoping keeping on top of things will improve my overall mental health.
Cleaning the bathroom also meant that I was able to get to the bottom of why my shower had dropped in pressure. Turns out the tube that connects the control unit to the shower head had come loose. The whole thing fell out while I was rinsing the tiles and water just went everywhere. Well, it wasn’t quite that bad, but after screwing it back in it was back to its old destructive high pressure. I’m very happy.
I’m wondering what else to do for my birthday this coming week. I’m doing my Disney marathon on the day, but I guess I should treat myself to something else. Maybe I could spend the night in a posh hotel in town. Hmmm, yeah, that sounds kinda cool. I’ll see how much money I have to spare. It would be nice to get out of the ghetto for a day or two. Which reminds me, since I’ve set up a Direct Debit for the lottery each week, I’ve started browsing for nice properties around town, should I win. I guess it should be depressing but, actually, it’s filling me with hope, inspiration and excitement. Guess I have as much chance of winning as anyone else with one ticket, right? Right.
Anyway, I best be off. Hope you are all doing well. Do drop me a line sometime!
Toodles!
Thursday, 16 May 2019
Signs of life
I’ve been really itchy and suffering dry skin over my whole body for a few months now, to the point where I’ve been worried that I’ve somehow brought fleas into my home. I initially suspected that it might have been carried over from my ex’s house, as my stuff was stored in their front room where they keep their rodents. Then I started to worry that I wasn’t looking after my home properly, which still could be the case. I’ve been spraying flea spray in key areas (bed and sofa) and have even been wondering whether I’ve somehow contracted an STD (I’ve not had a guy over in a couple of years). Basically, I’ve felt a bit dirty and embarrassed. This is another reason why I went swimming yesterday, as I wanted to immerse my whole body in chlorine for an hour, just to see if that worked.
It’s ok, I get by on my looks.
Well, I just had a revelation in bed this morning – what if I’m allergic to something?! Bingo! So, what is it that comes into contact with my whole body every day that might cause itching and dry skin? Well, I changed to non-bio laundry detergent this week, which still doesn’t seem to have worked. Then it came to me – my shower gel! I started using Dove shower cream relatively recently, which I like because you really feel it all over your body and it takes ages to wash off. The latter should be a downside, but I’ve actually come to like the ritual. But, hey, if it’s making me have this reaction and affecting my mood by making me feel unclean, then it’s gotta go!
Luckily, I had some bars of soap leftover from my pre-Dove days, so I’ve yanked myself out of bed way early and had a shower with one of those. Think I’ll put my towels in the wash too, as they might have soaked up some of the Dove, especially my shower towel. I’m also half tempted to wash my bedsheets again (I only did them the other day), just in case. If this doesn’t work, then I’ll call the council and get them to send a pest person out. I’ll also ring the hospital today to get myself check out too.
You never know.
I can't stress enough how thorough I am usually when it comes to my personal hygiene. I shower daily, sometimes twice, I'm always washing my hands and change and wash my clothes regularly. It's just my housework that tends to fall by the wayside due to my mental health.
Anyway, just thought I’d share, as this has been getting me down lately.
Toodles!
It’s ok, I get by on my looks.
Well, I just had a revelation in bed this morning – what if I’m allergic to something?! Bingo! So, what is it that comes into contact with my whole body every day that might cause itching and dry skin? Well, I changed to non-bio laundry detergent this week, which still doesn’t seem to have worked. Then it came to me – my shower gel! I started using Dove shower cream relatively recently, which I like because you really feel it all over your body and it takes ages to wash off. The latter should be a downside, but I’ve actually come to like the ritual. But, hey, if it’s making me have this reaction and affecting my mood by making me feel unclean, then it’s gotta go!
Luckily, I had some bars of soap leftover from my pre-Dove days, so I’ve yanked myself out of bed way early and had a shower with one of those. Think I’ll put my towels in the wash too, as they might have soaked up some of the Dove, especially my shower towel. I’m also half tempted to wash my bedsheets again (I only did them the other day), just in case. If this doesn’t work, then I’ll call the council and get them to send a pest person out. I’ll also ring the hospital today to get myself check out too.
You never know.
I can't stress enough how thorough I am usually when it comes to my personal hygiene. I shower daily, sometimes twice, I'm always washing my hands and change and wash my clothes regularly. It's just my housework that tends to fall by the wayside due to my mental health.
Anyway, just thought I’d share, as this has been getting me down lately.
Toodles!
Swimming with larks
So I went swimming today, which was pretty awesome. I’ve been thinking about going again for a while, but every time I’m in the right headspace e.g. I’ve slept properly and am not hungover, it’s usually school holidays, and I’ve got it into my head that the pools will be full of noisy families when the schools are closed. That may not be the case, but it’s a general rule I go by to only go during term time. I went to the baths closest to me (on the same road as the guitar shop I regularly frequent), which is in a very nice old building and has changing cubicles around the pool. I used to use the cubicles when I went there years go, but I wanted to have a locker this time, so I went in the communal changing/shower room. I was feeling anxious all morning before I went, as I kept thinking there’d be something that would get in my path (not literally) to stop me going and deprive me of all the floaty goodness. But nothing did, and I had a fabulous time. Well, I did have a little problem with using the locker (the first one I picked was, of course, broken), but there were some lovely old dudes in there that helped me. One guy kept advising me to use the cubicles around the pool, but they aren’t secure, so I kept having to tell him: “No, I want a locker!”, which he didn’t seem to understand. I had my house keys and a £500 smartphone on me. I want a freakin’ locker.
Swimming is my most favourite thing ever, and it always upsets me when I get out of the habit of going. Usually that’s because I get stressed with how busy the pool gets, and when there’s a person in there who thinks the pool is there just for them and keeps knocking me, but today seemed fine. What work well was doing a couple of laps, then stopping for a rest for a few minutes. Just floating there, spacing out, seemed to keep me calm so, yeah, I hope I can keep it up.
Another reason I wanted to go (other than just for enjoyment) was because I keep getting joint/ligament pains in my left shoulder. I don’t think it’s a prelude to a heart attack or anything (as far as I know), but it’s pretty nasty, so I thought swimming, which is just all round good exercise for your whole body, might save me a trip to the doctor.
In other news, The Lion King has just arrived on DVD, so that’s me set for my mini-marathon of Disney films next Thursday. Was worried it wouldn’t get here in time, but they obviously found a spare copy for me knocking about in the Amazon warehouse. Need to get some drinks in too for afterwards.
Think that’s all I have to say for today. Not much else has happened. Well, I have had a good night’s sleep the last couple of days, but I don’t want to jinx it by saying it’ll continue. I’m enjoying watching Family Guy before I turn the lights off, so I recommend watching something silly in bed to any clinically depressed folk like myself. It tends to help me end the day on a happily irreverent note.
Right, toodles!
Swimming is my most favourite thing ever, and it always upsets me when I get out of the habit of going. Usually that’s because I get stressed with how busy the pool gets, and when there’s a person in there who thinks the pool is there just for them and keeps knocking me, but today seemed fine. What work well was doing a couple of laps, then stopping for a rest for a few minutes. Just floating there, spacing out, seemed to keep me calm so, yeah, I hope I can keep it up.
Another reason I wanted to go (other than just for enjoyment) was because I keep getting joint/ligament pains in my left shoulder. I don’t think it’s a prelude to a heart attack or anything (as far as I know), but it’s pretty nasty, so I thought swimming, which is just all round good exercise for your whole body, might save me a trip to the doctor.
In other news, The Lion King has just arrived on DVD, so that’s me set for my mini-marathon of Disney films next Thursday. Was worried it wouldn’t get here in time, but they obviously found a spare copy for me knocking about in the Amazon warehouse. Need to get some drinks in too for afterwards.
Think that’s all I have to say for today. Not much else has happened. Well, I have had a good night’s sleep the last couple of days, but I don’t want to jinx it by saying it’ll continue. I’m enjoying watching Family Guy before I turn the lights off, so I recommend watching something silly in bed to any clinically depressed folk like myself. It tends to help me end the day on a happily irreverent note.
Right, toodles!
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