Sunday 12th April 2020
Basque: 2020ko Apirilaren 12a, Igandea
05:25hrs: It took me that long to get to sleep, I slept through to 0525hrs, I can’t recall any dreaming though. But waking up didn’t seem like a reasonable idea at the time.
I’ll tell you why. As I manipulated my overly sized body mass, to jiggle a bit, to work out which ailments were active this morning;
First thing as I hedged my bulk to the right. The Pillow-Shaker Fire Alarm activated. Naturally, this diverted my disease, injuries, and bodily-scars, seeking plans, as I fumbled to get my hearing aids in, grabbed the walking stick, and with ears peeled, I went to investigate the reason. A sort of delayed realisation came to me, and a semi-panic took a hold.
- My apartment fire alarm was not going off, so I assumed it was the main one, which I have to open the front door so I can hear it. I did the usual touching the door handle with the back of my hand to see if it was hot. (I was pretty pleased with myself for remembering to use the left hand, in case Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters that fail on the right side of my body were on strike, [I became Smug-and-Satisfied temporarily]) Had the nerve-ends gone into failed-mode, they would nit informed the brain, and I just might have opened the door to be greeted by a wall of flame or black smoke in the mush. But no sounds heard, so I went to check out of the kitchen window to see if the fire brigade were on site.
- Not an easy job, with these new thick-framed, view-blocking, rain letting-in windows. The wide window ledges that stick out far too long, mean I have to stand on the stepladder to see the view below! (I bet this isn’t mentioned in the Nottingham City Homes advertising or commercial bumf anywhere!)
- I had to go through to get the stepladders from the junk room and managed, with no difficulty gave myself a cracking, whinge-making toe-stubbing against the ladders as I tried to carry them and the stick back to the kitchen!
- I opened the dangerous unwanted, unliked, fear-giving window, and as I climbed up to take a look outside, I hit my Arthur Itis-ridden knee against the corner of the ladder platform. (I think I might have said something like ‘Oh bother!’ at the time) It took me several injuries, and a lot of time, before I found out, there are no fire engines anywhere.
- I gingerly alighted the stepladder. Ad sense, logicality and obviousness came over me (A rarity indeed!) I asked myself, “Why the %☺@$ hell didn’t you just go on the balcony to look? I had many answers to this self-imposed question, but none of them was realistic, believable, or sensible! My confidence, never high at the best of times, sank a little more.
I took the stepladder back. It’s hard work carrying that with the stick, a bruised toe, and a very-most painful patella; I can tell yer! As I went, I maundered on at myself and realised things were not going get any better, my EQ told me. I was mentally preparing for some type of zemblanity, disaster, or general disappointment.
Having aboulomania, pathological-indecisiveness, a lack of confidence, and inability to do anything about this makes life difficult at times. The bad memory, insomnolence, and Stuttering Stephanie don’t help much. Hello, I’m wavering toward self-pity again! Come on Inchie, buck yourself up, take it like a man… well, imitation man, at least!
I got the area around the £300 second-hand, c1968, sickeningly beige-coloured, not working recliner cleared up! I could not see any signs of nocturnal nibbling, but things were not in their usual places or positions, and slow but sure, the various ailments started kicking off as I tided up a bit. Fluid-Retention Robert had filled the legs a bit more. Blotchy Belinda has visited the groin area. Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding, and the blood had dried (I’m not looking forward to the medicating at all!). Clopidogrel Clive had removed no end of his spots and odd marks overnight? Reflux Roger and Hard-Breathing Boris were giving me some gip! Toothache Terence was back. And now, Colin cramps has just started on the hands and fingers.
I tried to get a delivery slot from Iceland. It appears the yare fully booked until next Friday. Shame!
Computing, template, the updating for hours. By the time I stopped, I had a hatred of Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, and they’re forever failing and returning, failing and… Never mind! I checked on the Amazon situation regarding the deliveries.
Looking good. The Mini-cheddars ‘Pickle flavoured’, should be here today. I must resist tearing the box open to get at a bag. Hehe! The wristband alerts for Warfarin will be arriving, of course, how long it will be until these ones split and break is anyone’s guess. They are from a different supplier, and a lot dearer than the others were. So, I hope that means they will last longer.
The ablutions were started much later than planned, with all the cockups and tribulations this morning. I have to make Josie’s nosh afterwards.
Ablutionisationing Report: Only the one cut shaving. A new bruise, but feeling more content. The bruise I got when picking up the dropped bar of carbolic soap in the shower. (I can’t see myself getting any more carbolic ever again. It was hard enough to find even before the lock-down! – Sob!) I banged my knee on the grab rail while showering, I’ve a little swelling to remind me of it. I did drop the showerhead again, but grabbed at it, caught it in time, (Godsmacking innit!) and pulled it to my body, hitting a certain delicate, but redundant nowadays, part on my anatomy. (Ouch!)
After drying off and cleaning the shower and sink. I had a look at the ever-morphing pins. Bit for meat on them I thought, then realised it was Fluid Retention Fred’s doing! Another oddity, (my life is not short of them!), was the new bruising the knee, was showing up as white? Well, I’ll be blown! Clopidogrel Clive was attempting a comeback as well. Belinda Blotches was visiting the legs as well. And, the usual for me paleness and anaemic, whiteness, had gone a, well, I don’t really know what colour it is, deep cream or a gungy spotted pale brown?
As I was getting dressed, Colin Cramps had a go at my hands and fingers again, causing me to drop the body spray can. I couldn’t help but the funny side. My dropping things are usually controlled by Nicodemus, Shaking Shaun Dizzy Dennis and occasionally a perhaps a Neuropathic Schuhplattler dance from the right leg. What if they don’t like this imposter Colin Cramps doing their job? I’m losing it here!
I got the bit of handwashing done, not a lot, as Paul Daniels used to say. The bath towel, and the thin dressing gown. No socks, the damned sock-glide isn’t going have me today! I got the towel done wrung and hung, then did the gown, and hung that in the wet room.
Now, this makes me sound demented and a bit odd, (Fair enough I am!), but can you not see an expression of the sock-glide on the shower chair?
He looks awfully pee’d off to me. My having avoided any conflict or battles with him for two days now (I’ve not worn any socks, Hehehe! That got him!). Is he angry or sad? Perhaps he’s missing the little lumps of my finger-ends his deadly spring clip usually provides for him? Is he annoyed the Nicodemus has not made me drop or fall over it lately? The ailments rarely all come on together, but they may be planning an uprising! I’ve gone again, lost it!
Time to get Josie’s meal prepared. I didn’t take to long to get it ready. The cheesy potatoes, (the highlight of the meal my customers tell me), had to be made with Sainsbury’s substituted for Leicester grated cheese, a mixed bag. I got it served up for the gal.
The mixed grated cheese had Mozarella in it, not the tastiest of cheeses, and when warmed up got very stringy. But, beggars can’t be choosers! Without Jenny’s help, I wouldn’t have had any cheese to use. Stuck like glue to the utensils! I left the cutlery soaking in a bowl of washing up liquid and bleach for a few hours.
Not only did it get me in a mess that needed extra cleaning, but it was tasteless! But for my share, when I get it, I’ve some caramelised red onion chutney to spice it up. Hahaha!
I got carried away in making some small Good Morning photos, and side shots for the blogs, it was soon nearly 16:00hrs.
I went to visit the Porcelain Throne, and midway through the evacuation, the intercom chimed out! It was the Amazon man, with the highlight of the day, the pickle flavoured min cheddars, the wristlet alert bands and some pots to use to separate the seasoning.
I left the box until I had done the chipping off of the Mozzarella cheese from the cutlery in the bowl.
It came off okay, with a little, no, much effort and elbow grease!
All three items were there. I got them sorted, and could almost taste the Branston Pickle flavoured mini cheddars as I did so. The pots had what I wanted in then the screw on lids, as opposed to the snap-on ones I have at the moment. There are times when Nicodemus’s nerve-end die on me, and it’s difficult to sense if the lids are on or not.
Not haven eaten due to my getting too involved with the CorelDrawing, I realised it would be a while before I can get my nosh. So I took a bag of the mini-cheddars from the box; and what a pleasant, serendipitous, wonderful discovery! They were 50gr packets, not as I had expected, 30gr. I made a brew and gobbled a full pack, by gum, they were great!
Well, the fatigue dawned, but did I stop CorelDrawing, did I ‘eck as. I was on a roll, almost as if I was on a drug-trip! I had to concede defeat to the fatigue in the end. I was struggling to get the computer to close down. my heart sank. If I lose this outlet to life, it will be life-changing.
Then, as it does to me so often, I realised I had totally forgotten about the cheesy potatoes in the oven! Spittling-Splurging-Sparrowhawks! I scuttered to the kitchen to check, almost tripping over the walking stick in my haste.
Ah! All was well, which momentarily confused me. How could the mash be in the oven for over three hours and not get burnt? My question was soon solved when I realised I had not turned the oven on! Well, I couldn’t remember turning it off from doing Josie’s potatoes?
I’m getting worried about my mind and memory of late.
Anyroad, I put two of the Iceland beefburgers in with the cheesy spuds and turned on the oven. Draycup! I made a brew of tea, and for some unknown reason. I began to mourn the loss of my old pottery mug. It was genuine remorse, but why?
I reckon the mind is on its last legs. Tsk!
I went to turn off the computer and was not sure if I’d hit sleep or turn-off. I fancied I’d put it on sleep, but then I’d turned off the power. I turned the juice back on, and completely forgot to press the mini hidden button, and panicked a bit! Thinking my pressing sleep, and turning off the plugs, had damaged something. It really is scary, when you forget how to turn your computer on! I was in two minds whether to mention this at all. But, in keeping with my reveal-all policy on blogging, I did. Well, you know that cause it’s written here. I’m going off-line-logically a bit here!
I spent so long sorting out what I had and hadn’t done with the computer, and got it going alright again (Sigh of relief the size of Asia!), by the time I got back to the pots and burgers, they really had got burnt! But not too much for me, luckily I like them well-done, like this!
I got the plate filled. Took the med’s with me, along with the fodder, Clementine drink, and the light lemon yoghourt.
The potatoes were really not good at all, the crispy bits, when applying the caramelised red onion chutney, were okay. The cheese, well, I might as well have not used it, so weak and tasteless it was. The tomatoes were not too bad. Surprisingly, the burgers were great! I wish I’d got more in now, Humph!
This made me try again to get a delivery slot from Iceland. Nope! The nosh was granted a rating of 5/10, passable, just, thanks to the beefburgers; that I cannot get any more of, the lemon yoghourt and clementine drink. The medications tasted the same as usual, 10/10, Hahaha!
I got the pots washed, and tried purposelessly and unsuccessfully to get some sleep. Morpheous wasn’t having it again! Even the little two-minute nod-offs were absent without leave! Grobbledigrooks!
After hours of trying to nod-off, I perused the TV channel guide, and to my pleasure, unpremeditated serendipitously found that a Red Dwarf extended film was just about to start on the box. Aha, great, one of my favourites and I hadn’t seen this one before! Oh, joy abounded!
I rang Sister Jane to advise her of Red Dwarf about to start on the gogglebox, thinking that xyrophobia-suffering, left a fortune in a will of someone he didn’t know, pools and lottery winner, who retired at 50 years of age and has women chasing him, tall, good looking, well-built, Brother-in-Law Lucky-Pete liked Red Dwarf. It was not an easy conversation, Jane was on the Bollinger Brut Special Cuvée again. Hehehe! I’ll get in trouble for telling of that!
About an hour into the 2-hour Red Dwarf programme, and enjoying it immensely, that damned Morpheous came on, and I missed the rest of the film! Waking up with a start, as the closing credits were scrolling down the screen!
Then, could I get back to sleep again? Nope! I lay there for another couple of hours, Thought-Storms brewing, self-hatred, fears, worries, they all pestered me, before getting to sleep. For three hours!
Life is not a bed of roses!