Friday the 4th of May 2018
First things first – May the 4th be with you.
Secondly, I say that because I want to be inclusive and embrace any potential geeky sci-fi type behaviours that may be lurking in our community. Don’t worry it’s very natural to enjoy, or even believe in fiction. Not natural to me right enough, it does my tits in, but you knock yourself out. I mean it’s not entirely mental to enjoy fiction based entertainment is it? Look at the church, they’ve been doing it for YEARS. In fact it’s no less mental than believing that a bloke in sandals was able to turn water into wine. Imagine if Jesus was around these days? Fuck me would he literally be the life and soul of the party, even if you don’t drink wine you’d want to see him do it wouldn’t you? I wonder if he had a magic wand? The Bible doesn’t really say one way or the other does it? Also, surely if he could turn water into wine he’d have sorted himself out some decent shoes? If he’d been savvy he’d have sold that wine and bought some Skechers. Anyway my point is, the vineyards would be out of business, we’d not have to levy alkie tax and…. oh aye, and it’s May the 4th.
And to you. That’s the Forth by the way, the famous estuary… fucks sake… Google it.
I’ve had to get used to sci-fi being married to our Christiaan, he has a nerdgasm every time something even remotely far fetched comes on telly – zombies, killer squirrels versus marginally pissed of sharks, anything with the word “space” or “star” in it and, the worst of them all, fucking Bigfoot. Do you know, there’s an actual telly series called Finding Bigfoot? Yes I said series, not just a one off “lets indulge the weirdo’s” programme….9 series of it. 9 fucking series of fully grown men and one misguided woman wandering around talking to hillbillies who swear they’ve seen Bigfoot, thwacking trees to try and attract them out of hiding (the big footses not the hill billies) and making deflating bear noises, which is apparently their native call. There’s even one bloke who reenacts what the hillbillies claim to have seen – he has an actual Bigfoot (or sasquatch if I’m giving it its Sunday name) costume and everything and runs through tree’s or stares menacingly at cars. He is apparently not dissimilar in height or weight to a Bigfoot. All of this is fucking impressive, I mean how do they know, because in all 9 fucking series they have NEVER EVER found a Bigfoot? Never. I repeat, 9 series. Of nothing… and people are still watching it, waiting for it to happen. It can only be a matter of time right? Why the fuck are we all doing grown up jobs when there’s money to be made in this sort of shit?
This is exactly what’s wrong with society these days if you ask me. We used to hide these people away because we were embarrassed; they were off their head and we didn’t really want to be associated with them but now? Now we put them on the telly. We PAY them to be off their head and we tell other people to enjoy it. We have cults of people who are so evangelical about their “beliefs” that they go off and do fucked up stuff and it’s allllllllllllllll because we give idiots a stage. Clearly there aren’t too many big foot murders around so they’re relatively harmless but you can apply that logic to religion, politics and “celebrities”, fuck it, you can apply it to blogging. I could be perceived as off my head n all! I guess the blissful reality is that mental people are either rarely self aware or incredibly self aware and are exploiting their quirks for personal gain – i.e. fakers.
So anyway; May the 4th be with you; and to you, etc.
I’ve got to say as far as Friday’s go it’s been an incredibly quiet. In fact, I suspect that your gran has seen more life than I have today. Yes, even if shes’s no longer with us (Jesus can produce wine remember, she’ll be trollied). It would seem that either yesterdays 40 minute excursion was actually a trek round the Andes or I was destined to be fucked today regardless; who knows. All I know is that I’m goosed. I can barely move myself and I’m counting down till 3.30 when I can go and get the wee man from nursery, come home, and take some pain killers. I’m fucked off being this sore and tired. It gets in your head you know, you start wondering what is actually going on. What has happened to my body that it’s reacting like this? I’ve started being hyper aware of any lumps or bumps just in case the docs have missed something; maybe there’s a very physical treatable reason I am as shit as I am? It’s desperation I know, and I also know it’s not a healthy way to think but speak to anyone with an “invisible illness” and you’ll find we’re all clutching at straws in some way or another; you just want to be fixed. I’ve had every blood test, scan and assessment I can and bar the brain shenanigans, kidney stones and a billion other unrelated physical ailments they’ve found an overwhelming abyss of: nothing. Absolutely nothing that would explain my symptoms. I reckon I’d be alright with that if I was the kind of person who had always been poorly at the drop of a hat, but up until I got pregnant with Eli I wasn’t. I had recurring kidney issues but could go years without an infection, I had a sore back… but I was rarely ill. I used to drive hundreds of miles up and down the country, I managed a large team, I had a roaring social life, loads of friends all over the place, I went on holiday, cooked, baked, diy’d – I was one of you. Then it changed and I have no fucking idea why. None.
On days like this, where I’m pissed off with everything I need to pull myself back a bit. I refuse to be the whiney, wailing, gnashing of the teeth kind. I hate people who bathe in self pity and remind you at every junction why life is so hard for them, and why you should pity them. So I don’t. I allow myself a bit of time, but not too much, just to be angry with it all privately and then I give myself a big fucking shake and get on with life – whatever that may look like. You know why? Because life in whichever guise is short and there is always someone who would snatch your arm off for even a snifter of yours. I have an amazing husband, a beautiful home and the most gorgeous wee critter out there (soz, but he is)… even if he is shit at hide and seek.
That was my morning right there.
We got up at 6, yep 6, Eli slept longer which was a wee Brucie Bonus (R.I.P. big chin). He was in a right nice mood this morning (probably because he’d had enough sleep) and full of fun so we “played” hide and seek, which basically means he stands in full view shouting “I’m hiding Mummy” while looking at me dead in the eye. I have to pretend I don’t see him and shout for him and this is THE funniest thing he has ever encountered. It’s a win win all round to be fair, I generally get to stay sat down and he gets to feel like the great Houdini. So it was a cosy morning, aided by Bear, the world’s least graceful cat who would probably sell his sisters kidney for a belly rub and a kiss on the head. Stupid, beautiful animal.
I went back to bed after Eli left for nursery, I didn’t really want to but, well, I won’t go on, you know from reading above why. So I did sleep, but I set an alarm, if I was going to waste the day away I was going to do it on my terms, not on M.E.’s. Plus the Tesco man was coming and I didn’t really want to answer the door looking like I’d had an orgy and 25 pints of Stella… again…. so I needed a shower. I was back up for 10ish, showered and dressed before he arrived just before 11. Got the shopping unpacked, had a nice sit down, got up, made some food, had a nice sit down, put some washing away, had a nice sit down, emptied the tiny food waste bin…. had a nice sit down… you can see a theme can’t you?
That’s been it though. I called time on “pottering” about half one and I’ve been sat writing this ever since. I still think it’s mental it can take me near on an entire day and night to write 2000 words. I’d churn that out and probably more, an hour at work some days but I’m oceans away from that landscape at the minute. That’s why writing this has been so good for me, it gives me something to focus on and deliver on a day; it gives me the structure that I desperately need to stop myself going bat shit crazy with it all. If I achieved nothing in a day I’d be heart heavy – I’m not good at achieving nothing. Technically you guys should be charging for your time; you all sit there reading my drivel. You’re all my therapists…. well kind of… most of you say piss all and either send me love hearts or thumbs up on the Facebooks, if you were a real life therapist that sort of limited 1 dimensional reaction would be frowned upon I reckon. Imagine if we all reacted in real life as we do on Facebook though? Like if it was someones birthday, you could sit with them on the toilet and shout HAPPY BIRTHDAY HUN XXXX then move onto looking at the worlds biggest cheeseburger. The birthday boy/girl would give you a thumbs up and fuck all else. They’ll probably not even wash their hands after they’ve wiped their arse. They’re giving you a shite clad thumbs up while you watch a fat man eating the worlds biggest cheeseburger, and you don’t care because you’ve moved on. They’ve not even said thank you. I miss people saying thank you when you extend a common courtesy you know. Have manners gone out of fashion? Oh there are TOO MANY people wishing you well? You’ve not got time to thank everyone INDIVIDUALLY? Erm, well, WOE IS FUCKING ME….MIND YOUR MANNERS – SAY THANK YOU YOU MASSIVE INGRATE. Does my head in that, thankfully I don’t let it show 😉
No doubt social media is becoming more and more invasive mind, my Facebook page for the blog is up to 521 likes and 573 followers; all of which has happened pretty organically through word of mouth but Facebook will INSIST on trying to get me to pay to “boost my post”, telling me it could achieve hundreds more by targeting my chosen demographic. Its advertising obviously, but what it basically means is they will look at all the data they have collected on YOU and expose you to me (not in a naked way) if they think you’ll “buy in”. It’s a huge reminder that we all have a data footprint and we should probably be a bit more careful with it – or you could end up with 100 me’s all over your news feed. My blog isn’t monetised – there are no marketing links or affiliate links included (personal choice to leave them out) so I have absolutely nothing to financially gain in paying for targeted advertising but loads and loads of companies do. That’s why you see so much annoying shit that maybe fleeted through your brain, or is related to something that fleeted through your 5 years ago STILL popping up from time to time on your news feed. For me, I just want the blog to be read and enjoyed by as many people as possible – I’ll not be paying for advertising. Now if they said they would donate x amount of pounds to an M.E. charity every time someone joined the Facebook page I’d be right up for that, so Facebook bigwigs, if that’s a thing – let me know!
I’m chuffed with how well the blog is going to be honest; the Facebook stats are just one side of it Instagram, Twitter and the exposure I’ve had a Tots100 and Two Chubby Cubs have all brought their own readers. WorldPress, the hosting platform for the blog itself brings in a lot of individual readers organically and the daily views are often over a thousand a day – it’s doing alright. It’s small fry compared to bigger firms and more established bloggers but it’s growing and I guess at some point I need to make some choices; do I promote it, or do I keep it ticking over organically? I don’t know really, there’s something a bit daunting about opening up your daily diary to the masses for scrutiny but…. people are learning about M.E. and what it means for people affected, and that’s got to be a good thing… right? Fucked if I know, and it’s not a question that really needs answering right away I guess. In the meantime, when you see a post of mine I’d be grateful for a like or a share, or… clutches pearls… comment; it helps get the site more visible and helps me spread the word a bit more, plus it’s nice to know I’m not baring my soul to an empty crisp packet.
So today’s synopsis
- It’s nearly the weekend, and a bank holiday weekend at that so I get to spend loads of time with my two favourite humans
- The bean casserole from last night gave me a massive clear out. I feel like I’ll have lost at least 7 stone when I go to weigh in on Monday
- BURGER FRIDAY YEEEHAAAAA
- I’ve ordered some new Instant Pot accessories which will seem incredibly dull to you but very exciting to me
- I’ve started shopping for Eli’s birthday in September already… because I saw “bargains” and it would be mental to pass them up… *cough*
- Tough day physically and it’s caused me to be overly reflective and internally whiney. Today needs to fuck off to be fair.
- Ring sting – see point 2 from highlights
- What’s on the menu Mellars?
- Breakfast – null and void, I chose sleep
- Lunch – mushroom and red onion tagliatelle with philly light (again)
- Dinner – come onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn, it’s Friday. We know what happens on a Friday. It’s burger night
*If you’ve just stumbled across TryingToDoItAll and have no bastarding idea what’s going on you should probably go back and read a few blogs from the beginning. Don’t panic, I won’t ask you to read them all, but these few posts will help explain. Oh stop sighing, it’ll only take you a few minutes. Fucks sake.
- Well you’re here, so you may as well get comfy
- Can’t stop M.E. now…. ahmm having such a good time, ahmm tickling your balllssss!
- When are the grown ups coming?
- Major surgery…again?
- You’ve got to be kidding M.E.?
#mecfs #meawarenessuk #mewarrior #silentillness #swearymum