Thursday the 28th June 2018
Blimey, Thursday already and it’s an absolute belter out there. I was sat out in the garden for a bit earlier this morning but it got way too hot and rather than having a lovely warming heat on my bones I felt my bone marrow was on actual fire so called it a day. No staying power, that’s my problem. So instead, I’m sat in the lounge, with the curtains closed pretending that it’s pissing down out there so I don’t feel anywhere near as guilty for missing a glorious day. What the fuck I would do with such a beautiful day I have no idea, it’s not like I can go for a stroll, or a long drive, or even sit out in a nice coffee shop. I’m either too fucked, too knackered, or too committed to fat club to entertain anything on that list. WHERE’S MY FUCKING VIOLIN?
So I’m indoors, because, sometimes it just gets too hot. Well for me, I appreciate everyone else in the country is sat out soaking it all up but I like a warm day, not a hot day. This is another reason I’m shit on holidays abroad (there are lots of reasons). I love the heat for a very limited time only, and after that’s been and gone I get majorly fucked off with it and just want to hide out somewhere a bit cooler without my vag crying in a pool of it’s own sweat. Who puts hair on the hottest bit of your body anyway? God? If you exist buddy, you did it wrong. Yes I know I could get rid of the hair in a million different ways if I wanted to but you’re missing the point; why the fuck is it there to begin with? What is our body trying to prepare us for that pubes are going to solve? Nothing. That’s what. Pubes are useless, they protect fuck all bar your own vanity. I tell you why they’re there – it’s because your “sacred garden”, whether you’re female or male is fucking ugly and it needs covering. The big man had clearly run out of inspiration when he came to create genitals; either that or they were the bit he started at and he’d honed his skills by the time he came to do the faces. If it’s the latter he’s the polar opposite of me because I can draw a cracking set of cock and balls but can I draw a nose? Can I fuck. Those things are impossible to draw.
Anyway, I digress… It’s too hot out there so I’ve come in and I’m now sat wondering what condition my child will be in when I collect him from nursery in a bit. He’ll absolutely be caked and I mean CAKED in sun cream; the nursery take NO risks when it comes to sun safety which I’m grateful for but it does mean he needs a deep bath every fucking night, instead of a quick bathe once every second night. No I don’t bath him every night, fuck that. Call the social, I give none of the fucks. I suspect he’ll not have been able to sleep in this heat and if he’s been out in the nursery garden all day he’ll be absolutely fucking knackered. So we have all the ingredients for several tantrums and an early bed there… I’ll be amazed if I’m not right.
So I didn’t write yesterday. I was knackered, literally fucked, from the moment I woke up to the moment I fell into bed and passed out. I didn’t even get round to opening the blog site, I knew I’d not make sense of my brain and there was no point in setting myself up for a fall. It’s a right pain in the arse but Wednesdays can often be like that. Even although I try and be careful and plan only low impact things for Eli and I on a Monday and Tuesday its often “too much” for me – I put that in commas because if a normalton had had the exact same couple of days I’d had they’d be feeling chilled out and all refreshed and shit. I, on the other hand, feel like I’ve done the locamotion for 15 hours straight with Kyle Minogue; I’m confused, sore and I’ve no energy. I guess it’s just the way it is now but I wish I could work out what my sensible limits are because at the minute it feels like some fucker keeps moving the threshold and I’m struggling to make sense of it all. It’s like a recurring cycle that I can’t get out of though; Saturday and Sunday are Ok-ish because Christiaan is here and he does an awful lot with and for Eli and we tend to get out for a bit. Monday and Tuesday are brutal because I’m on my own with him and I’m doing everything myself and Wednesday to Friday are written off preparing for the weekend then the Monday and Tuesday. I’ve no idea what I can do about it though; life can’t go on hold because I’m not well and if I go any slower I’ll actually stop.
So it was tough going physically and mentally yesterday but the day in itself was a fairly positive. OK so I wasn’t able to move much, there was no way I could drive and I felt like sleeping for the whole day, but I had a really good convo with my gaffer in the morning who is still being incredibly supportive. I am very very aware of how lucky that makes me, and I’m chuffed he trusts the better version of me is fighting to get back and get stuck in again. It was cracking hearing some of the news from work and actually feeling a bit invigorated with new topics and convos. The downside was, it wiped me out. I was concentrating so hard on not messing my words, or slurring that I think I used all of my juice at once. I am always surprised at just how much having a focused conversation wipes me out. I can talk day to day spontaneously but if I have something in particular I need to say, or present then I generally need to concentrate now. The Sarah of 2016 could present to hundreds of people confidently and not miss a heartbeat, I’d say I was a natural pubic speaker to be fair but the version of me that has existed since 2017 finds it really difficult. Not nerve wracking, I’m generally not too nervy a person, but just…. mentally hard. The end result of a 30 minute convo with someone I am really comfy with generally was I was pretty much done for the day by 11am, I could barely speak and moving wasn’t on the agenda at all. In fact I sat on the bed and watched Christiaan get the blinds up in the bedroom during his lunchbreak and rejoiced that finally, FINALLY the bedroom was finished. If I’d been able I’d have done a lap of honour, but I raised an eyebrow instead; I know how to show my appreciation! Now apologies to the Facebook crew, I know I posted these pics on the page last night so you’ve already seen it but we’ve got a few hundred that follow the blog via email or WordPress and they may not have seen it so… here is the finished article. This is what I wanted to write about yesterday but couldn’t.
I’m right chuffed with it, I wasn’t sure I’d get on with bright pink bedding but chose to be brave and got a bargain set from the mecca of online shopping; Amazon. Christiaan chose the colour of the walls which I love, we already had the bed, ottoman and the bedsides and I got most of the other bits organised over the last few weeks. We need the new lamps to arrive, which should be next week and I need to source a mustard coloured chair for the corner after the other one turned out to be lime green (according to the supplier, factory error) but other than that… we’re done. I can’t tell you how lovely it is to be in a bedroom that’s finished. As you know, I’m an early bedder and often go back for a nap or two in the day and I’ve never, in the 4 years we’ve been here, felt it was peaceful or tranquil up there, in fact the room used to set me on edge because it was so different from my normal style that it made my teeth itch. So this, well this is fucking marvellous to me… and I reckon Christiaan is quite proud of it too.
When I woke up this morning it was just so lovely to take it all in before the daily grind of doing fuck all began. I mean, I was ignoring Eli who I could hear through the monitor was waking himself up by farting and shuffling and I was also ignoring Bear and Bonnie who were doing an out of sync duet of the song of their people from 4am, but other than that; it was an oasis of calm.
I’d planned to do nothing today to see if I could balance out whatever the fuck my body was doing yesterday and for the most part I’ve managed it. Some boring bits like hanging out washing (and then looking smug when it dried in no time at all…. thank you burny ball of fire in the sky) and tidying but other than that nowt. Soul destroying nowt. Do I feel any better for it? Nah, not yet, maybe tomorrow I will, who knows. It’s all a mad form of voodoo I reckon.
- The bedroom is done hoooorayyyy!!!
- A really good convo with my gaffer has reaffirmed what I already knew; I have their support to take as much time as I need to get better (whatever that looks like)
- I made a cracking dinner tonight (more on that further down)
- A good washing day!
- I’m fucked…. again… and getting a bit pissed of with the cycle of no sense
- I can’t find a bastard mustard yellow chair at a sensible price anywhere
- It wasn’t Goldilocks out there for me today
- What’s on the menu Mellars?
- Breakfast – A slice of toast with boiled egg on
- Lunch –butternut squash (roasted) with some of the sauce from last nights sausage and pepper stew/casserole type thing and a few quorn meatballs chucked in. Sound a lot… but wasn’t!
- Dinner – I made mexican chicken in my instant pot (2 peppers sliced, 2 chicken breasts whole, an onion, about 200ml passata, a teaspoon of oregano, a teaspoon of v hot chilli powder, 1/2 a teaspoon of sugar and 1 chicken stockpot. Chucked on for 0 minutes and left to come to nature pressure release – then shred the chicken… epic), served with a wee tiny bit of brown rice, a few wedges and a salsa of tomatoes, cucumber and red onion (mixed with a splash of white wine vinegar, some parsley and some garlic powder. It might sound odd but it was right nice – I wish I’d taken a pic actually, but I didn’t, I ate the fucking thing, like everyone should.
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.?
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ME Blogger extraordinaire… not really