Inchcock Today – Sat 25 May 2019: An irritating, omnium-gatherum ridden day, and sleep deprived night!

Saturday 25th May 2019

Icelandic: Laugardaginn 25 Maí 2019

 03:30hrs. What a horrible, macabre, perturbing and disturbing night’s effort at sleeping. (I might think of more words to add to this list later, like atrocious, dreadful, direful, hideous, contemptible, execrable, lousy, frustrating, heinous, laughable, doleful, third-rate, rebarbative… depictive words like that! Oy Vey and Pickled Walnuts!

I only got about an hour in, then woke in need of the Porcelain Throne. Or at least I thought I required the Porcelain Throne. An almost nippy exit from the £300, c1968, grotty-beige coloured rickety, ramshackle recliner, the feet,, and toes were giving me bother once I stood up, and off to the wet room. Much wind and no movement, despite great painful efforts made, and my continuing to take the Senna tablets? While I sat there a long time, failing to prompt any activity from the innards, the causes of my lack of kip flowed monositantly and incessantly into the brain. Of course, as to be expected, there were no understanding or solutions found on my behalf, of why, or what can be done to solve this relatively new conundrum?

By the I capitulated and gave up all hope of internal movements, I was not interested in sleep anymore. In fact, it was a struggle to find anything to be involved in. Then I remembered it was Saturday, the Cheesy potato meal for Josie. This cheered me up a little.

A wee-wee of the VSSWWW (Very-Short-Sprinkly-Weak-Wee-Wee) urination classification. And then went to get the medications ready and do the Health Checks. A bit different today; Dia 154, Sys 69, Pulse 88, and temperature 54.8°. Getting the tablets out of the blister packs reminded me of Ping-Pong. Humph! The finger-ends were dancing about when they made contact with anything hard, more than ever before, and it lasted far longer too, this time. The right leg was occasionally jumping, but I’ve almost gotten used to that. 

I wanted to make a start on Saturday… erm Friday Inchcock to get it done. There is a lot of photographs and writing to take place. The fingers slowing me down was bad enough, but then the Liberty-Global crap Virgin Internet started going so slow! Of course, its the weekend again!

I stopped trying to use the computer, in the hopes that it will come back to its average pathetic speed soon. “In the hopes…” saying such a thing brings on a feeling of dysphoria, and an acceptance of just how stupid I really am!

I made a brew of tea and got some hand-wash clobber in the bowl with freshener and liquid soap powder. A heavy shirt and a pair of bamboo socks. Oh, and the Ankle-Strappings.

I checked on the computer, and surprisingly, the Liberty-Global internet service was still hogwash and slow. So, I have to be careful without the Ankle-Support on, but at least I am not going out anywhere. Another reason for feeling low!

So I carried on with the hand-washing, and did my best to wring them out and got them on the slow-airer flatbed, and hung some up.

Despite the Liberty-Global ramshackle pretend service being so slow, I pressed on, battling not only internet, but the electrified jumping fingers, and it was a hell of a struggle, too, I can tell yers. Humph!

Some or other I got the blog finished but was really in need of some sleep. iLife was feeling mashugana to me now!

A lot of tap-tap, nock-knocking from the flat above this morning. I hope he’s fell over and injured himself, self-stabbed with one of his screwdrivers or drills. Oh, I meant I hope he’s not fell over and hurt himself, self-stabbed with one of his screwdrivers or drills. Silly me!

I called to see what time Josie would like her nosh, but no answer.

I kept turning the clothes that were drying.

I went on TFZ Facebooking then WordPress Reader.

I called to see what time Josie would like her nosh, but no answer.

I made a start on this post. But after an hour or so, the internet became even slower.

I called to see what time Josie would like her nosh, Aha! She was up and answered.

We agreed 12:30 > 13:00hrs for the food to be delivered.

I took some photographs from the view-blocking, thick-framed, multi-glass-panes cleaning needed new Kitchen window, that I have to get on a step ladder in the event of my wanting to see anything below, like a fire engine, ambulance or policeman. I take back the last one, we don’t even see any policemen anywhere in Sherwood, and precious few in Nottingham. Tsk!

Got the cheesy potatoes in the oven already, turned them up and went into the wet room to get the ablutions done.

All cleaned up and feeling better, I got Josie’s nosh prepared and went to deliver it for her, at 12:55hrs. No answer to her doorbells. Oh, dear!

I titivated the drying clothes and got my potatoes in the oven.

No answer to her doorbells. Oh, dear! Mark Two!

 Later, with my potatoes burning and hers going cold, I went again to delivery Josies for her. She answered she had not heard the last two bell rings.

Shame it was as hot as I would have liked to have been for her. Still, the gal ate it all she said, apart from the bread, she does not eat white bread, sourdough or otherwise.

I did a bit of updating on this blog, then Josie called to return the tray and things. She seemed to have enjoyed it, which pleased me.

I got my plate of food. But once again, I overdid the quantity. I ate the cheesy-potatoes (Of course, Hehe!), some of the tomatoes, sausages, and cucumber, and a little of the greenery, along with the mandarins in water. Not so bad though, I reckon I consumed about 70% of the fodder on offer.Not too bad, really, and the cheesy-potato flavouring was out-of-this-world, delectable. I used distilled vinegar this time, with a little bit of mustard and sea salt added to the mix.

I got down to watch some TV and set the timer, so I wouldn’t miss that Jackie Chan’s film, ‘Who am I’. A light-weight semi-comedy.

Josie rang the ‘I only want to be with you’ tuned doorbells. She gave me some yogourts and two potatoes. It was her way of saying thank you, I think, bless her cotton socks. ♥

Back to trying to get to sleep, and I saw an advert for the Hughie Tyson v unheard of Canadian Norrad fight. Being as kip was again showing no signs of coming, I foolishly stayed up to watch it. Crap! Absolute rubbish!

To make things worse, I was feeling so tired, despite having done nothing physical for ages, but Morpheus meant to avoid me at all costs. Then the brain started throwing things at me, my worries, desires, and failures, with childhood misery-memories thrown in the salmagundi of sleep denying torments.

The curtains were drawn, and I pulled the bobble hat down over my eyes. This was not working. So I tried the thinking of happier times… which took a lot of memory searching, and brought to mind more errors and wrong choices I had made over the years: Which made sleep even more distant and reluctant! I concentrated on the angling days at Attenborough reserve. And this brought on how much I miss my pipe of Erinmore Mixture. Getting disturbed, wanting a wee-wee so often. This was not working at all.

However, sheer tiredness, I think, got me off to kip eventually. By then it was about 03:00hrs!

I woke in need of a wee-wee at 05:35hrs. Peed-off! Tsk!