TFZer Model, Janet ♥
Tuesday 21st July 2020
Filipino: Martes Ika-21 ng Hulyo 2020
03:30hrs: I stirred from my preciously short slumber, and lay there, worrying, fearing, considering the events of yesterday – one of my worst 24-hours for months that was! Of course, the mind-meandering got nothing sorted, arranged or even understood. But there was a twinkling, albeit it only a shimmering, of newly arrived determination in my heart, almost like a degree of mock-willpower! But I knew it was there, dreamt of, self-created, by my disgust at how I handled yesterdays farcicalisations and disappointments. Or rather, didn’t handle them, not well, at all! I let everything that went wrong, (and there was plenty of failures, let-downs and disillusionments), all get to me. I’m not proud of that!
My very thoughts were even confusing me. Then luckily, the need for a wee-wee arrived, and this got me moving physically. I huffed and puffed and struggled to get my volumingargantuan wobbly-stomach with the skinny limbs attached, free of the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety recliner, and wearily got up onto my painfully long uncut toenailed feet! I’d missed the pain from them while I was sleeping. Hahaha!
I grabbed the four-pronged walking stick and hobbled precariously to the EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket), and took a CLD (Cloudy-Long-Dribbling) wee-wee. It surprised me at how little after-dribble there was. (Something else for me to fret over? Humph!) I took the bucket with me and got it cleaned and sanitised. Then to the kitchenette.
As I was filling the kettle, the morning view from the light & view-blocking windows was spotted. And I had to try and get a decent shot of it for once. I’m not a good photographer, in fact, even worse since the stroke and all the agitational ailments have developed. It came out a smidge better. But not as good as I would have liked.
I put the kettle on, rubbed the Phorpain gel lotion into the bruised toenail. Then did the Health Checks. The SYS was still a bit high. The body temperature, according to the ear-hole thermometer, was 69° Fahrenheit I assume and hope! I took the medications, having a problem sorting out the three small tablets that had not been sent in the box, as they promised they would at Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, again! I’m still not sure if I took the Codeine 60g, and Beta-blocker as I should have, or a Furesomide in mistake for one of them? Which is which?
This chemist has also left me without medications with a late delivery, the longest being for six days! I can recommend them; if anyone else is on medications a lot in Nottingham, and just happen to want to commit suicide, but can’t make their minds up, just get them to do your prescriptions! They’ll do it for you, the suicide-assist I mean. As professionals, they can leave you without tablets, tell you they can’t deliver this month and you will have to come and fetch them (which is their cunning way of helping with your disabilities and giving you exercise on the one-mile walk to their shop, and the one-mile uphill walk back to the flats), And mix up the tablets so you don’t know which is which, thanks to the dedicated customer-hating, one or the other of these failings is bound to help you make up your mind… like it or not! They also have a superior snottiness if you complain, and turn things around to blame you! Just thought I’d mention it. I got carried away there, didn’t I? Sorry!
Made a brew of Extra Strong Assam tea, and went to the computer. I came across this photo, which according to the date on the camera, I took yesterday? But I can’t remember taking it, or why. You do things like this when on so many medications, getting old, and are fed-up! Still, on the bright side, I’ve got enough tea-bags to see me out in the cupboard. Hehehe!
I got on with, and concentrated on getting the updating dome, or even done! I have to say, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, and Anne Gyna were both being kind to me up to now! And Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters went down far less often than they usually do? I got the updating finished, sent the blog to WordPress, emailed the link and visited the WordPress Reader. Now it was time to get the ablutions done. No signs yet of the Porcelain Throne being needed. A bit worrying that, it’s a possible sign of rock-solid constipational activity building up!
I got in the wet room, and stripped off the PPs, revealing my ectomorphic, muscle-rippling, young, awe-inspiring body.
I nearly toppled forward when the stomach wobbled free as the gut-retaining pants were removed! Hehehe! Toothache Thomas was very-little bother when I cleaned the teggies. A total of one, just one nick shaving!
However, when I dropped the soap, I managed to crack my right shoulder on the edge of the sink. This set off Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley! Cringleblastitt!
Dizzy Dennis visited while I was showering. But no to badly. The drying off, and the medicating went almost perfectly! Them the getting dressed, always a hot spot for tumbles was also good and pain-free!
Mind you, the feet had gone all white on me, even after showering. The toes and nails were actually hurting when I was just stood there taking the photo?
I’m getting nervous now. It’s not natural for me to go so long without some form of failure, injury, falling over, or walking into something. But I did! Something is bound to the edge off my virtual contentment and pride. Oh, dearie me, yes!
As I came out of the wet room to put the towel on the dryer, I noticed all the boxes that had been waiting a long time, to get sorted, and guilt dawned. With all the recent Amazon deliveries, I had let the boxes build up in the spare room. So, with me currently feeling uncommonly fit (for me), I decided it was time for a bit of graft and a bit of clearing out. I know I can’t manage too much, but I seemed to have found a rare resolution from within… You see, no wonder I’m more confused than ever, this determination was real, and I acted upon it! I think I overdid it, and almost creased myself. Haha!
I made up two black bags of general rubbish to go in down the waste chute. Then assembled the cardboard boxes, and tore or cut them up, and got them into two of the bigger boxes. I had to make two trips with the three-wheeler walker-guide. The first one with the by now, four bags of rubbish. Which was easy enough, I wasn’t rushing, and got back to the flat with the trolly, without suffering any injuries or accifauxpas!
A definite, but a dangerous state of affairs… I began to go into Smug-Mode, and a foolish semi-confidence came out. And, I didn’t take a breather, and got on with stacking the boxes and hung the small and large white recycling bags on the handlebars of the guide.
This was all foreign to me. I felt quite perky now and set off to go down to the caretaker’s area. Balancing the boxes on top of the trolley, and watching that the bag handles didn’t slip off, took all my concentration.
With the one lift, it was ages before I got the residents elevator to go down. Again, the contractors one arrived several times before the resident one did. But I will not get in that one, as we have been instructed. It’s not fair on the workers, and surely risks their catching something, if not Coronavirus from us oldies?
I got the lift eventually and on the way down, the cage stopped, around the eighth floor, and a chap tried to get in. I calmly pointed out the sign that only one person at a time was allowed in the lift. The gentleman exited the cage, without moaning.
Down to the ground floor, no one was about, I didn’t see a soul on the ground floor. I got the trolley, with the bags and boxes out of the lobby, and to the bin’s area. I could not physically get the recycling into the bin, so left it all by the side. I came back inside and to the lift lobby, pressing the call button. The contractor’s cage kept coming down repeatedly. A bloke came in and just got in it without a care, and went up in it! Naughty boy! Haha!
I got in a lift eventually and returned to the apartment (That’s my three-roomed flat, by the way, Hahaha!) I got the trolley stored in the corner behind the door. And, without any toe stubbings or hitting into anything? How long can this last? There was stopping my inner-cockiness though, I’ve never gone so long without a tumble, Accifauxpa or injury! This actually worried me!
I noticed as I got into the front room, that the sun was trying to break through, so I took the Nikon camera into the pod (balcony) and took photographicalisations. Starting with the wonderful cloud formations, and did a bit of nephelococcygia, at the time I found what I thought was a face in this picture, But by the time I got to place the shot in, I’d lost it!
I tried a distance shot, zoomed in on the other end of the car park, but wasn’t too pleased with the resulting snap.
I spotted a man and women with clipboards wandering around Chestnut Walk.
I tried a few times to get a decent view of them. But ended up with this one being the bestest I could manage. Tsk!
I attempted another zoomed-in shot, of some houses up the hill to the South-east of the flats. Again not a brilliant outcome, but passable for me, I suppose. I took several shots of this house too, but Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters were playing up a bit at the time.
So, I’m alright with this one.
I opened the North facing side window to take this of the dead-end car park. The sun had gone back in by now, but the clouds still looked amazing.
So I snapped the now duller Northern skies.
Ah, it had to happen! When I was trying to close this window, it has one of the perfect-for-old-people metal clips, that one has to either pull and push to open, or push and pull to close the window. The finger end will heal in time.
I did some updating on this post, then remembered I’d got the Iceland order to do. So I did it. What substitutions and unavailable’s there will be, I’ll find out on Friday.
Back to the updating for a couple of hours or so. And then went to make a brew of Glegettie Gold tea. While in the kitchen, I pondered on what to have for my nosh. I opted for the last of the cooked beef end-bits, baked beans and bread to soak up the juices. Hahaha!
Then I made a Whoopsie! I went to add some Hickory in the beans. The bottle cap fell off and about half of the bottle contents went in before I stop it! I swore silently, then tried tasting some beans – uneatable, the liquid smoke flavour was just too much. I pondered, is there a way to salvage this? I added another tine of beans, thinking it might weaken the taste. It didn’t! Then, I thought if I drain the beans when I serve them, maybe… oh I don’t know! Crogglesodit!
I had a look to see if any Emails of interest had come in. I went on the WordPress comments, then the reader section.
Then as I was doing this; Double-Tsk!
Aha! Things are getting back to normal now! Hello, it’s come back on! I got on with the comments quickly.
I tackled the job of saving what I could of the beans to eat the meal. Apart from the oh, so-strong flavoured beans, everything else was fine tasting. The red seedless grapes were from Spain, not perfect, a few had already begun to turn mouldy! I was careful in picking out only the good ones. Flavour rating, 7/10.
Washed the pots, and left a strainer full of the over-hickoried beans in a basin, to strain out the liquid, so I could throw them away without sending a wet bag down the chute.
The vagueness came as I settled to watch a football match on the box. Not very comfortable-making, but more agreeable than having the Memory Blanks, methinks?
Sleep was slow in coming again, and I couldn’t help, after three-nights of being woken up, waiting for the door chime or telephone to ring, but they didn’t. Yee-Ha!