Impavid Inchy – Friday 12th March 2021 – Diary

Classy TFZer Gentlemen!

“A pessimist is a person who has had to listen to too many optimists.”


INCHCOCK TODAY

Friday 12th March 2021

ITALIANO: Venerdì 12 Marzo 2021

23:25hrs: Horrible ever waking sleep last night. I was in the recliner for about five hours, though, but most of it spent waking up, thoughtless and vague-minded, and waiting to nod-off again! Grubblebleackers!

I got freed from the recliner, caught my balance quickly (Cartilage Cathy was so kind to me this morning, Yee-Ya!) By gum, it was cold in the flat. I wobbled into the kitchen and got the kettle on. Washed last night’s dishes and things and made a brew of Glengettie tea.

Then did the Health Checks. Pleased to see the SYS at 147, DIA 67 and PULSE down nicely to 83bpm. I didn’t adopt any Smug-Mode yet, mind.

I got the contactless thermometer out and was also satisfied with the resulting figure that it produced. 36.6°c – 97.88°f.

I took last night’s missed dosages of medications. (Fool!)

Got the computer on, and much to my surprise, Microsoft allowed me access to Excel and the HC logs to update. (Weich they denied me for all day yesterday – well, each time I tried, it was updating!

I’d let the tea go cold, so I made a Thompsons Punjana and then checked out the wall heaters that were not producing any heat at all! It was bloody cold in the flat, I can tell yers! Methinks I have problems with them!

I started to update the Thursday Diary. Got it finished, despite SSS Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley doing her best to have the right arm torn-off at the glenohumeral joint! Hehehe! Vicious she was, for about an hour solid. That’s never happened before. Not for that long a period. Still, she eased off later. Painfully and persistently, I completed the task, and I posted some snaps to Pinterest.

Then, sent the Diary off to WordPress, emailed the link, and went on Facebooking catch-up. I discovered it was another lovely, loveable TFZer ladies Birthday, so I made a graphic and sent it off to her. Note I’ve lost so much weight… Hehehe! ♥

Made some comments on WordPress. I visited the WP Reader section, then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived. Off to the wet-room, I hobbled. (Not so bad actually, Cartilage Cathy is still pleased with me and being gentle too!)

What a mess! Loose, yet gooey with it, short-lived, not a lot of it evacuated, and yet the gluey semi-liquid dollop just would not go away! Several refills of the tank by hand from the sink where needed, and five or six flushes! A jolly good job I had toilet paper spares, well that’s what they were, now more will be required, judging by the whole roll needed to clean things up.  Flibblegonkackles!

Apart from so many dropsies thanks to SSS, the stand-up session was only worthy of one mention with a difference. That was after nasal cleaning, teeth cleaning, shaving, bathing, and medicating…

Getting the socks on! It was even funny at the time! I forced the right leg up a little, wedged my bum on the door corner, got the sock part way on, and lost my grip (I do a lot of that!). The cotton sock shot off, hit the back of the closet box, and plonked down into the WC water! I tried to replicate what I would have been doing and made a photo of it afterwards. Another pair of socks were utilised. The legs seem to be retaining fluid again?

The Iceland Foods delivery is due twixt 06:00 > 08:00hrs, but I’d got the ablutions sorted early enough to do the hand-washing in the kitchen sink sorted. All done, wrung, and hung above the sink on hangers. The Lily and Yang Yang scent in the Surf soap powder has a delightful smell.

I took a Canan camera photo of the morning view as I put the kettle on and made a mug of Glengettie brew.

I checked the heater in the kitchen, and it was warm now; I turned it up somewhat, as the weather forecast is so gloomy for the next 24-hours.

I took a shot of Chestnut Walk and the car park on it.

Time getting close now for the food to arrive. After it does and I get it stored away, I’ll see how supplies look and if another Sainsbury order might be a good idea, depends on what slots are available. Sometimes it’s a long wait to get one.

I did some updating on this post and then made another brew, Thompsons Punjana, this time. No time to drink it, the intercom rangeth and flashed, it was the Iceland Food delivery arriving, I pressed the entry button and awaited his arrival.

The Iceland man dropped the begs… begs? Yet another cock-up wiv me grammar, Tsk!), bags I meant, through the doorway for me. Slipped him a choice of cans of plonk, and off he trotted on his mission to feed the nation!

I took the carriers through to the kitchen and went on the internet to see if anything was short delivered or substituted.

Does yer know, there wasn’t a single substitution, and nothing short delivered… Even more surprising, there was nothing found to be short-dated either, as well, besides! Iceland outdid themselves with this delivery, a definite, very welcome first!

I was well pleased, but of course, I’d not checked for any damaged, crushed or leaking goods yet, so I resisted going into a Smug-Mode for the time being.

I set about putting the frozen stuff away first. As you can see in the photograph here on the right, it was all healthy living stuff. Well, I forgot to get the chips. Hahaha! Still a kid at heart, I am!

Next, I put away the fridge items, far better foodstuffs. Topside beef slices, pork & Pickle mini pork pies, sweet chilli chicken, chicken thighs, potato salad, egg-mayonnaise, and some strawberry and whipped cream desserts. Now I’ve put the spell checker on; the previous sentence had eight mistakes on it! Ahem! Got the other stuff in the bathroom and cupboards.

The YourArea magazine arrived, so I investigated. The lottery winner had been sentenced for his appallingly dangerous driving in which he killed a 75-year-old lady in the car he’d drifted across the road, and his BMW then crashed head-on into an oncoming Ford Fiesta.

I say sentenced; he got away with a 16-week suspended sentence and a one-year driving ban! For a £45 million lottery winner, that’s really going to bother him, innit! And the poor husband has lost his wife through Topham’s ignorance of the law and lack of concentration in driving, and I believe still in the hospital.

The now 31-year old Topham said in court: “I honestly don’t believe I thought about what I was about to do,” he said. “If I could take it back, I would, but I can’t.” (Me, me, me!) Huh! Generalfeldmarschall Friedrich Paulus said that after Stalingrad, will have to find money from his £45m for taxies? Some sodding deterrent that was! Was the jury back-handed? Just asking! I bet he the had best expensive lawyers!

At least I found some goodish news on the Covid-19 figures locally.

I decided to get some late brekkers.

I called Warden Deana on the phone, got a recorded message.

Phone the Doctors Surgery, got a recorded message.

I went to make a brew of Glengettie, and I took a tumble as I bent down to check the heat not coming from the radiator. Clouted the head on the ledge on the way down, and SSS started to play up as I struggled back up onto my feet with the help of the stove.

Made the tea and had a sit-down. I’m not sure what happened then, but I assume I fell asleep cause it was hours later when I seemed to wake-up, head pounding. I took a Codeine 60g. I didn’t feel poorly, just confused.

Did some updating of this post, but concentration was not coming to me easily. 

It’s still a bit of a blur. No notes on the pad had been added, so I assume I’d nodded off again cause I woke up in the recliner. Feeling peckish, I made a meal of sorts made up. Didn’t enjoy it much, but I’ve had worse, though. A taste rating of 6/10 was given.

I had a surreal few hours then.

In the morning, I found these photographs of the TV screen on the SD card?

Yes, it beats me why, as well!

After perusing the pictures, I assumed that I’d been watching, or falling asleep to and waking, Law & Order, Tales of the unexpected, many adverts and commercials, and possibly even a Nightmare Kitchen episode?

All I can remember for definite is that I was having difficulty in getting to sleep. I did keep nodding off, I think, but the nods only lasted a few seconds each time?

I noticed it was 19:00hrs on the clock, then went into a Thought Storming period.

A bad one, guilt, despair, mistakes, isolation, depression and fear all played a part. These went on for ages, with some emotional events from the past repeating!

I was fighting with my memory for some unknown reason, and I became self-loathing in the process.

I was pointless concerning myself with banal questions and seeking positive answers; Had I been to the Porcelain Throne today? What to do about the ear-ache? I must get a Sainsbury order done tomorrow, etc., on and on the silliness of life came at me, sadly, along with the regular guilt, shame and embarrassment. I really did feel so; what’s the word I’m looking for… lambasting and self-chastising. Oh, that’s two words!

I did eventually nod-off, and when I woke up, I wondered if my memory had been warped as I recalled how I’d felt, but the sense of doom and gloom was no longer lingering?

Isn’t life funny at times?

4 thoughts on “Impavid Inchy – Friday 12th March 2021 – Diary

  1. Lots of deliveries to stock up on noshes. Curious how the delivery drivers turn down a can of plonk as a reward tip. Speaking of nosh, a 6 of 10 is a pretty low-grade value (sounds as useful as a 6g Codeine). Hoping you have betterer edibles before Sunday arrives. Sorry to mention that fell day, Sir. My apologies!
    Oh no! You are already in the grips of Sunday. Yikes!

    • I’m suffering with I know not what, Sir Billum. Just tired, and no impulse to do anything just overcame me again! So, I didn’t! Tsk!
      The food situatin is plentiful, but of course, never the right ones. Hahaha!
      We’ll have to dream up an alterative word to use than Sundays between us Billum, not too techical mind.Hehe!
      Saturday was bad for me, the thought of what SD will bring forth, makes me shudder. I can’t help it.
      So weary, mate.
      Still, one mustn’t complain… well…

  2. Happy Birthday to Janet. BP and temp look good. Nice comfort food in those Cones, Viennas, and Rockets. A good set of photos. Breakfast and Dinner. Almost normal. Looks like the ghosts and aliens have been watching TV and taking photos of the screens. Guilt, despair, mistakes, isolation, depression, and fear as part of a post Thought Storming sessions seems perfectly normal since you are locked up alone, with the exception of pesky ghosts and aliens, in an apartment filled with all kinds of dangers and booby traps, but no boobs to comfort you. Self-loathing is not at all surprising given the sad situation and isolation you have endured going on for a year now.

    • I’ll pass on your wishes, Tim, cheers.
      You’ve found the words I shouldh ave use, ‘Comfort Food’, you’re spot on!
      BP sneaked up a tad this morning – I’m not surprised.
      Most understanding essay of mt situation, too. Tim!
      Keepeth safe, and love to all in the Price household. ♥

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