Wednesday 7th September 2022: Diary

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WEDNESDAY’s ODE
I apologise for the crap above – I ran out of CBD, you see!
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Very late this morning, I stirred into life, around 0715hrs. Tsk!

The tumble-caused marks and bruise in the right knee, I expected to start stinging as soon as I moved – but no! Hardly any stiffness, and the pain when I did move, was pleasantly greatly reduced. I expected it would be far worse, but I’m not complaining.
As I was catching my balance as I raised up my magnificent, muscular 5′ 3″ body onto my feet; a tiny emission from the rear end all but had me gasping for breath! I thought it advisable to make my way to the , with some haste. Well, it appears that Trotsky Terence is reclaiming the top spot in the evacuation-stakes daily battle with Constipation Conrad this morning. Splurt-splash and all over with!
Bending to clean up the well-sprayed porcelain bowl, I hit the right knee against the bowl… but hardly any pain, and that evaporated within minutes. Are things going well today? Worrying, innit? So unnatural!

Had a wash, no shave yet, cause I wanted to be ready for when Carer Richard arrived. He didn’t have time for a proper chinwag Monday or Tuesday. I was looking forward to a mutual moaning, groaning, verbal-repartee, and laughing session with the lad.
By the time I’d made up the waste bags, ♫ Oh Susana ♫ had chimed out, and in came Richard. He greeted me in the kitchen, but my EQ told me I would not get a blathering session. As he started to yawn as he spoke, I knew my chances of a good confabulation were nil! Hehehe! That’s three days without a good Richard gossip… Humph! Still, can’t blame the lad; he might be disappointed too. Anyway, I tried not to show my disappointment to Richard and genuinely wished him a better day’s kip for today. He gave me one last yawn, after telling me to take care as he left, with the waste bags in his hand for the rubbish chute. Bless him!

Morrison’s email regarding today’s order: CRAP!

I popped into the balcony to have a look around outside, and I managed a rarity – a moving vehicle using the wide bit as a turnaround point.
Red van-man, in his usual position on the no-parking chevrons. I wonder if he’s a bully or a wealthy tenant… maybe related to one of the Nottingham City Homes bosses? Could be all three?

I got the Boot’s branded Sphygmomanometer, manufactured by ZDEAC (Zhongshan Daguan Electrical Appliance Company Ltd) in Guangdong, China, and the were done. SYS 157, DIA 75, Pulse 76 and the body temperature was 33.4°f.
Oh! The returns from the NHS Diagnosis site showed that I was still in the Red Zone much a lot higher than yesterday.
I’d have thought yesterday’s sudden raise would be due to the tumble I took, yet today. Feeling a lot better, and it increases? There’s no telling, is there?

I started to get yesterday’s blog finished off but got carried away by adding things I forgot to put on. A slow job again, bearing in mind all the mistakes I was making in typing. I wonder how long it will be before the cataract is done?

The intercom went, and I heard it! ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ burst forth as the Morrison delivery man arrived. I remembered to tell him before he started unloading the baskets, as I was directed to in Morrison’s Email! The chap seemed unphased about it! What the hell am I ordering stuff from them for?

I thanked the man and got the much-reduced food into the kitchen. No message from crap-overpriced Morrisons to tell me they are going to reduce the order cost yet, and it is now gone 20:00hrs? Are they going to rob me? I wouldn’t be surprised. SWINE! Realised that I had not sent back the overpriced unwanted food bags – I am a clot! Morrison was charging more than Amazon were for the Germoloids? Gits!
They must hate their customers? And their pistachio nuts were as dry as wood! The cheddars biscuits deserve to be called Cheddars-crumbs! The cans of mandarins in water were both dented. I hope they have not put arsenic or bleach in the vegetable risotto!
The fridge was full again, but not as full as it would have been; were Morrison’s skilful enough not to run out of stock of many things.
I’ll just check the emails to see if any notification about the returned items has been sent… back in a bit. Nope, no email from Morrison’s.

I got another call on the intercom. I think that van is an Amazon one, but no one was in view. The man who delivered to me left nearly an hour ago? Of course, it might not be an Amazon vehicle at all.
I’m waffling again, sorry.

I spent a good many hours (five more at least) getting the Tuesday blog finished: I just kept adding to it? Is this being caused by Doreen’s Dementia? I genuinely found it impossible to stop writing.
I was aware that time was running out. I was worried about getting no sleep again… Yet I still pressed on. The only thing that stopped me was self-hatred at my stupid actions… really sad innit!

I eventually got the Tuesday blog sent off well into the afternoon and started doing the template for this one…

Warden Julie appeared in the room, another shock for the ticker. He asked if anyone had been knocking on my door. I’ve heard no one, I replied. But as she was hastily going out again, she said something as she hastened down the hallway, but I could make it out.

Ten minutes later, there was a knocking on the door. A tall, well-built young man, holding out a wrinkled ID of some sort. Told me he wanted to earn an honest living, he was just out of prison, and would I buy something from his bag? Really pressing for me to view them and purchase something. He was most annoyed when I said no.
Then I realised this might be why Julie had come to see me earlier. I tried ringing her and Warden Deana to inform them he was still about, but no answer. So I left it alone but kept the door locked after that.

Carol called to say is it alright if she does the laundry on Sunday, cause I can see you have plenty of clothes. (Unaware, I’m sure, that I can no longer fit into ¾ of them – Hehehe! No problem, I said. It’s with Esther staying on her holiday in South Africa for another two weeks, and Carol obviously did not know and had made other plans, bless her. Not her fault at all. I asked her if she saw a Warden tell them he was still on site. I assume it was this con man they were looking for?
I was entertained on and off by Herbert in the flat above, with a good mixture of mechanical concerts. The tap tapping was superb; he threw in a few metal-sounding thuds.

The intercom went, and I heard it again! I looked through the spy-hole and saw an Amazon man who’d been last week and opened the door. Cautious that it might be the con man again, I waited unto the door chime rendered the ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune.
It was the Depend Protection Pants. These may look rough compared to the others, but they are practical and reassuring.

I opened the carton and put the pants bags in the spare junk room.

Then, I put the last of all the rest of them, with a bag, open of the Depend ones, into the wet room.
I can rest easy now. Should I be caught out, heavens forbid, but it can and does happen. The front wee-wee spurts or the , or the most noticeable, when Inchies . The Tena and Morrison ones have let me down in the past.
The ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune burst forth again. It was Josie, bless her heart, she’d bought me some bananas for making her Sunday meals. ♥

I got back to blogging for several more hours… Until I was just too tired to do any more for now. And I’ve still not had a meal yet!
I took this photograph of the moody evening view from the kitchenette window while cooking the Oh, so late meal.
The meal: A veggie cottage pie, red and yellow mini-tomatoes halved, and the last of the just out-of-date raw garden peasWeak and unwilling.
Backed up with a bag of Seaweed Crisps. Seaweed coated with tapioca with tried these; I think Sister Jane would like these. I’ll put some with her wine to take to her. Or to be collected. Whichever. Melted in the mouth, expensive, but jolly tasty flavour!
I woke up and took the dish, cutlery, and empty pot on the food tray to be washed… ! I’d left the tap I (faucet) running again! , ! No hot water now until the early morning, so no shaving either. Too risky to use hot water from the kettle to shave with. I remember leaving the taps on in January and using the kettle for shaving water… Still, the scalding scars have gone now.

I Lumixed a couple of shots of the rather magnificent view. Came out alright, and both were single efforts.

Evenin’ All! Well, it’s tomorrow morning now!

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