Blood out, sleep in, hair off

Ok, so I think I’ve calmed down after yesterday’s antisocial rant. I’ve even come up with some more original ways to begin paragraphs.

So, anyway, I went for that blood test today which, apart from the pain, was fairly uneventful. The nurse did remember some random thing I said when I saw her three weeks ago, so I don’t know whether she’s in love with me or something. Regardless, I now need to keep a log of my blood pressure for a few days and hand it in at the surgery next week. Good grief. I’m pretty sure I was busier back in my working days.

After seeing the nurse, I bought a couple of wraps from the shop over the road and just headed home. I was out the flat and back in within an hour, which is pretty good going. One of the wraps was, apparently, “chicken tikka”, but I didn’t get the impression there was any meat in there. I guess it could have been a cheap chicken roll type of thing, but I’m now unsure and scared. I did think it was cheese at first but, after checking the wrapper, I was informed otherwise. Who knows. The other one was packed full of lamb, which I enjoyed very much. I’m glad they didn’t have the usual stock wrap fillings in that shop. They almost tasted homemade! I’m guessing they weren’t though.

Why two wraps, you ask?! I’m a fat fuck, that’s why. Get onboard, bitches.

Once I had consumed this vast, ethnic repast, I drifted off to sleep on my bed for about four hours. I don’t know whether this was due to the blood loss, or the fact that I’d originally gotten up and started my day around 3 am, but it was nice to finally have a large chunk of shut-eye.

Hey, that’s make a good band name!

“Good evening, Chicago! We are Chunk of Shut-Eye! Let’s ROCK!”

It’s good to have goals.

I’ve put a boozy grocery order in for tomorrow, so you’ll not hear from me for a few days. This is probably for the best. I’m switching over to Budweiser from Fosters at the moment, even though Budweiser cases are a few quid more. Fosters is just undrinkable to me nowadays. I’ve also slung in a bottle of that cheap supermarket whisky, which should take me out of it for a while. Let’s just hope I don’t leave the oven on all night like last time. I really should buy a microwave to stop these little accidents. I think I may be a little absent-minded at the moment anyway, as I noticed earlier that I’d left my guitar equipment turned on all night. I think the amplifier was off, but the pedals’ LED displays were definitely blinking.

I best go check my electricity meter.

Oh I managed to find this obscure kid’s movie from the 80s, which I believe my parents rented for us not long after it was made. It’s called The Peanut Butter Solution and you can find it in all its unrestored, low-res glory on YouTube. I hardly remembered anything about it, save for the title (which is the best title, let’s face it), its plot, and a particularly alarming jump scare. Well, scary for a 7 year old, that is. The film’s about a little boy who sees something in an abandoned house that makes all his hair fall out, and the rest of the film follows his attempts to grow it back. I don’t think the screenwriters had ever heard of alopecia, so they just came up with their own name for his condition. I’m sure people would be offended by all this nowadays and mob the producers on social media, but whatevs. Anyway, it’s a strangely compelling little film, with some surprisingly good performances from the young stars. Two of them, I suspect, would be coming out of the closet a few years later, as the main boy’s best friend has quite flamboyant body language, and his sister has a, shall we say, “butch energy” about her. So, yeah, give it a watch. Everybody involved seems to be enjoying themselves, which is nice, so there’s a uniquely chilled vibe to the whole thing. It is a Canadian production, so that might explain it. I think it probably spooked me back in the day because of the ambiguity to what the boy sees that makes his hair fall out. I’m still watching it back, so I don’t know what the twist is, but I remember that not knowing freaked me out.

I’ve also been making inappropriate “Do the curtains match the drapes?!” jokes all night, which is funnier when you take the bald kid’s age into consideration. I’m kinda glad nobody’s around to hear these comments, as I envision an awkward silence.

I suppose this is why my dark sense of humour keeps getting me into trouble.

Well, after my massive kitty nap earlier, I’m not entirely sure what time I should be going to bed tonight. At least I’ve got booze arriving in the morning so, should I be messed-up and sleep-deprived, I can drown my pain in liquor.

Again, it’s good to have goals.

Do stay in touch, darlings.

Toodles!