"Well hello Mr Fancy Pants!"

My brain seems to be attacking me tonight. I’d usually drink away this self-loathing stuff, but I’m not in the mood. I think I’ve overcome the sickness that befell me for a few days, although I’m airing on the side of caution. I’m concerned my sleep pattern is about to slip off the rails again, but that’s hardly a surprise.

The cyclothymia has laid out some new rules for me. I’m now off the classic Hollywood historical epics and back onto Ash vs Evil Dead. What a wonderful series! If, like the rest of the nerdverse, you wanted more sequels to Evil Dead 2 and Army of Darkness, then AvED is just perfect. Serious when it needs to be serious. Funny when it’s had enough of being serious. I actually think Ash works better as a middle-aged loser. In fact, except for the charm and chainsaw-hand, he sort-of reminds me of me: a guy who’s been there, done it, worn the t-shirt, had to sell the t-shirt because of financial problems, re-bought the t-shirt but it doesn’t fit so good anymore, and found himself living in semi-squalor as a full-alcoholic. Plus there are demons chasing him.

Sound familiar?

I’m way better looking than Bruce Campbell though.

I had my first supermarket delivery of 2024 today. Stuff like that’s exciting when you reach a certain point in your life, believe me. I had a nice little chat with the delivery dude, but my frank honesty about my circumstances bummed me out a bit once he’d left. I really shouldn’t treat such people as therapists.

I rang the surgery earlier for the results to my last blood test. Apparently there’s something serious enough about them that I need to speak to my doctor directly, but not so serious that it can’t wait until February, when he’s next available.

Oh the deepest of sighs.

I can hear a young woman laughing somewhere in the building, perhaps downstairs. I’m wondering whether “The Whistler” has managed to lure someone into his lair. Poor soul.

There’s been no updates about mother being in hospital. I’ll give my middle brother a text tomorrow about it.

My old school friend finally replied to my last communique of three days ago, so I’ve not scared him off yet.

The other’s had the sense to flee.

I’ve decided to reorganise my pillow layout in the bedroom, which felt important enough to mention here. Now I’m not so sure. I guess I just wanted something more substantial to cuddle, rather than hunks of duvet. How much are those body pillows I keep hearing jokes about in popular culture? Or real dolls?

Yep, I’m feeling that isolated.

I’m definitely back onto learning about history at night. I really couldn’t see what else I would want to listen to, had I permanently moved on. I’m not a big fiction buff, unless it’s humorous. Life’s hard enough as it is for all that “grimdark” shit, even if you have it easy. I’d have probably loved it as a teenager though, back when I was into American Psycho and the works of James Ellroy.

I’m too much of a sensitive soul nowadays. I try to keep down my dark side, not nurture it.

Anyway, I best head back to Ash Williams and the gang. Those Blu-rays won’t watch themselves!

Do stay in touch, deadites.

Groovy!