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I’m not coping with life’s cock & bull,
Not living life much, indeed it’s not complete,
It’s less agreeable, more allegorical,
With the ingrowing toenails on my feet!
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Lonely, depressing, confusing and exilic,
Killing, wars, hating have become endemic,
Greed has now become most eclectic,
This is making me into an elegiac!
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If companionship I could acquireth…
A recovery in my spirits may beginneth,
Even at 80, can life refresh?
No, I’ll just bewaileth!
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To avoid getting any angrier, or angstier,
Full of failure and being depressederer,
Maybe I ought to see an augurerer?
Before I meet St. Peter?
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I now struggle with things arithmetical,
As I always have with things astrophysical,
My knees and hands are all arthritical,
But I try to stay amicable.
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I’ve always been something of a hypothesist,
I wanted to be a mouth organist, a harmonicist,
And was always a reader, a hermeneuticist,
And a pretty fair anecdotalist!
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Nowadays, I’m incapable of getting a crescendi,
Sad as it is, at least I do know why,
But with the end of the world being well-nigh…
I worry about the survival of the tsetse fly!
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I went to learn about antispyware…
There were a lot of people there…
An MP, a roadsweeper & a beefeater…
Good job it wasn’t a vegetarian affair!
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I went to an anti-Starmer get-together,
We all agreed he spoke bilgewater,
We knew sadly that he wasn’t a suicider…
So we bought a steamroller to run him over!
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Sir Francis died aboard ship of dysentry,
Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley & Kennedy,
Each President was assassinated, sadly…
But no one has killed Starmer yet? – alackaday!
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WARS STILL RAGE IN OUR WORLD
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Last night, I slept much shorter, but I was far less ridden with jumping awake all the time. And I did get back to sleep more quickly each time, even if   tried a few times to tug out my interstitial sulcus. What was totally missing for the whole time was . A smile emanating! I considered thinking about the possibility of making the bed but chose to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch, and urine was a six on the NHS scale.

Matron Jackie and an assistant called on me.
(As did seizures, dizziness and Anne Gyna)
I struggled to follow things with two voices to listen to.
Matron Jackie will try to get me help with hospital visits and doing the ablutions.

Seizures increased after they had gone.
Confused, I did not make any notes.
Did take some photos. Not necessarily in the order put on this blog, Confusion Konrad to blame.

Misty morning.

Clock-Calendar changed.

Waste sorted.

The spuds were readied and put in the slow cooker.

Evening shot.

Nine hours later, I made the first mug of tea.
Realised I’d turned the slow cooker on to boil the spuds but left them on the old cooker.
This could happen to any other idiot, you know! Hehehe!

It was yet another busy day, but little got done.
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Keep Safe! – Kia Haumaru!
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