Monday the 21st of May 2018
Right then, here we are again at the beginning of another week and yet again I’m sitting down to write about fuck knows what for fuck knows how long. I wish I could tell you I have an agenda mapped out for content, but I don’t and to be honest, it wouldn’t be a daily diary if I had fixed the content in advance. It would be a pantomime I guess. Maybe not a pantomime actually because I can’t stand them; a play, a work of living fiction…. like Geordie Shore but with less fake tan and dancing, and my tits covered up (praise be).
So no agenda, which is a challenge when your life is incredibly dull and you want to write a daily diary. I always think it’s slightly mental that my life consists of doing absolutely fuck all these days. It’s not really how I used to be at all. I was always the sort that would FIND something that needed doing; something in the house, something at work, something that needed reading but it’s like the rug gets whipped from under you when you get ill for any length of time. Suddenly you’ve no purpose and I don’t mean that in a massively dramatic THIS IS THE END OF MY LIFE kind of way, but in a way that means nothing is clearly defined in a day other than making it to bed time. I might know I want to have a shower, or make it out of the house for an hour but other than that… nothing. Fucking loads and loads of nothing. It can be crippling for the soul that because as much as everyone in today’s busy world longs to just STOP for a bit, when you’re here for any length of time it’s a bit shit. It would be better if we lived in a warm climate and had more money than leg hairs – then my friends I would be living the life of riley and it would be through choice, but this? Nah this is shite. I spend all day wondering what every other fucker is getting up to while trying to find the energy to go for a piss. It’s a huge bag of donkey dick.
I make the most of it obvs, there’s no point being a right weeping willy about it all. It is what it is; I’m coming round to this being the case for however long I stay this bad. As a result I tend to make the small things people do on the way to doing their main thing my whole agenda for the day. Getting some milk can be my aim some days which I appreciate makes me sound sadder than a Whitney Houston tribute concert, but what the fuck else can I do? I can cry and get angry, or I can go and get the fucking milk…. I know which is more useful. Can’t make tea with tears of self pity can you?
It’s a very odd looking at my old life though, I think I’ve mentioned before that I spent a lot of time driving up and down the country, working long hours and going out with friends; even when I was idle I was busy. Don’t get me wrong I wasn’t one of these that was up mountains and “discovering myself”, no, fuck that, I was out enjoying the less taxing elements of life, like having cake, or laughing. Also I can guarantee that 10 minutes after discovering myself and what an arsehole I was I’d dump me, and never ever ask myself out for a second date. My point is; I had a choice. I could choose to be out and busy or I would choose to stay at home and enjoy a rare night in with a bottle of wine and some shit telly. It’s the choices I miss. I’m 37 years old and my social life consists of visits to Morrisons or B & fucking Q.
There are days where I’m quite content with that to be fair. I don’t mind staying local, I don’t even mind staying indoors. I love our home; I feel comfy here, there’s lots of different places to sit and relax and I can always lose myself in the views for a bit. Or go and peer at Agnes and Davie….. look at her, sat there with her eggs looking like she wants to kill me, oh she is a minx. And the boats, look, always boats on the water, sometimes there’s a pod of dolphins or you see the spray from a whale. Sometimes you see fuck all but mist. So you see, there are definitely worse places to be stranded for a bit.
BUT (yes I know I shouldn’t start sentences with “but”, but it’s my blog and my rules so suck it up) there are days like today; where it’s Monday and I know that 99% of my friends are working. Catching up with what’s gone on at the weekend (even if it is that bastard wedding), laughing, moaning, sighing, groaning at the shovel of shite that’s come their way in the form of the weeks activities and I really really fucking MISS IT. I miss having a salaried purpose, I miss having the banter with people and I miss doing my actual job. I don’t know many people that wouldn’t enjoy a break from work but fuck me, this is like I’ve been exiled. What if I never manage to get back to work? Our whole lifestyle, including where we live would need to change. I can’t even bare to think about it at the minute but at some point, if this continues, we need to and I feel sick even thinking about it. Lets just pretend my recovery is just round the next corner…. it’s easier for everyone that way.
Fucking hell am I maudlin today given that it’s not been an overly bad day to be honest. I’m paying for yesterday obviously, but I’m still functioning. We took Eli to get new shoes earlier, got a parasol base from the mecca of DIY (obvs B & Q), picked a parcel up from the post office AND went to Morrisons. Including travel time we were out for an hour and a half. That’s more than some people manage in a week so I’m grateful but wouldn’t it have been grand just to do something that took longer than a few hours and had less sitting down? Yes it fucking would. I’m bored sitting fucking down. My arse is most definitely fucked off sitting the fuck down, and oh my days I can imagine anything even remotely padded groans when it see’s me coming these days….
Anyway, enough of me moaning…I piss myself off with it! So, as always I’m writing this from Mellars HQ Al Fresco, with the addition of the new garden rug and parasol which have arrived today. This is the last bit we needed for out here so this is as good as it’s going to get until all the flowers start flowering and it gets a bit more colourful. At the very least the rug thing draws your eye away from these fuck ugly slabs a little.
As you can see Bear is all kinds of comfy and even though he’s only a chattier version of a toilet brush he still manages to take up nearly half of the sofa. Now don’t let his relaxed demeanor fool you; that cat is like a coiled spring. Only this morning when another cat came into the garden he reacted by puffing up and running like fucking lightening with Bonnie back in the house to find us. Christiaan had to go and scare the imposter away but I’m sure, given another 12 hours and a dart gun Bear would have been all over it. He’s a fucking ridiculous creature. I’m not sure I appreciated just quite how docile and beautifully stupid Ragdolls were before we got them. They’re just not wired up to fight or use their brains for logic like normal cats. They’re stupidly furry, affectionate feline dogs. They want to be with you all the time, enjoy a good chinwag, get excited when you come home…..and play fetch. I’ve never had cats like them before, and I’ve lived with cats for years. It’s very typical of the breed though so if you’re thinking about getting one, do, but be mindful that if you’re getting robbed or beaten up – you’re on your own. They’ll do fuck all but hide.
Tell you what, it’s a bit colder than it was this morning; the clouds have rolled in, which is incredibly fucking rude of them but at least I’m getting the fresh air. Well my top half is, the rest of me is covered by a tonne of fleecey blanket. I’m on my own though. I’ve got peace to write because Christiaan has Eli at the park. He’s been banging on about going since early doors so I’m really hoping he’s running miles and not being too much of a tit. I’m about to get geared up and get out to early fat club class again to see what the damage is this week. I’m not expecting great things to be honest, it’s been a shitty week with one thing and another so I’ve either barely eaten, or in the case of yesterday and today; eaten off piste completely. I’ve had those few days off we spoke about and I reckon I’ll probably pay for that – I’m alright with that though….
Right then, I’m back. The earlier class proved yet again that orderly queues are ESSENTIAL so I had to get sneaky and sit nearer the scales so I could stand up and shuffle in line before the fucking stampede began. I stayed the same. For you non fattlings that means that I neither gained nor lost any lard which is a bit of a result given my spoils and my track record. I have no fucking idea how all this works in MY body. I get it for everyone else, the plan makes sense, but for me? There are times where I can be as good as gold and put on eleventeen billion pounds if I get even the faint waft of a sandwich, while 15 kebab Margaret lumbers on the scales, eats them and the group leader and still looses 3. This week I allow myself a bit of slack at the weekend and my body has literally turned the other cheek. Plus, Dr Alban time should mean that it was a fairly horrific weigh in anyway. This shit be crazy but I’m grateful. I’ll be back on track again tomorrow, watching what I’m doing and being careful. It’s good for me, all that whining I did earlier; it helps with that. A bit of focus is good for everyone I reckon. Plus it’s something I can actually control, what I eat that is, not the losing weight bit, I think I’ve already proven that bit, at least for me, is pure black magic. Control though? Oh aye, I love a bit of control, its like a nugget of pure gold when everything else has gone to shit.
That’s it though, the last wee bit of my energy is zapped and I’m done.
- A gentle trip out in the sunsheeeeyinnnneeeeee and laddo got shoes with monkeys on so the world was a beautiful place for him
- The new garden rug and parasol is smashin
- No weight gain – hoooray!
- Payback from yesterday is en route. I’m not doing great at all which is why this blog is a good bit shorter and has less content than usual….. soz
- I missed going to the park today – its been weeks since I was there now
- What’s on the menu Mellars? Bit of a mixed bag today
- Breakfast…. a yoghurt with apple and raspberries through
- Lunch – A savoury cheese sarnie with some onion ring crisps (naughty and lush)
- Dinner – Spag bol so that means breakfast and dinner were technically on plan, the rest of it has gone to shit.
Are you new round here?
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