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– – – – CHOICES– – – –
Too much, too little, is there anymore?
Front, side, bedroom, or living room door?
Rich, impecunious, oligarch or poor?
Balerina, Waltzer, or mayhap a bebopper?
Loyal, lover, husband, wife or bedhopper?
Alcho, wino, smoker or a teetotaller?
Perishable, eternal, dead or maternal?
Colchester, Uttoxeter, or Westminster?
Mistake-maker, MP or a grammaticaster?
Veggieburger, beefburger, or Gothenburger?
Mechanical, agricultural, or an inventor?
Alfred, Timothy, Paul, Doug or St. Peter?
Tested, tried, angsted, depressional or infernal?
Jailer, janitor, justificator or justifier?
Undaunted, heroic, rock-solid or a dodderer?
Decisive, determined, a deluder or kowtowerer?
Executioner, killer, butcher or a lecher?
Rolls Royce, BMW, Robin Reliant or lawnmower?
Massive, mountainous, mightier, or miniature?
A mover, manoeuvre, monster or misnomer?
Negotiator, nominator, narrator or negator?
An optimiser, organiser, observer or objecter?
Procrastinator, profiter or prognosticator?
Take a sweetener, gratuity, or a backhander?
An aberration, dementia, or cacodemonomania?
Presumpter, hypothesiser, or outright liar?
Most choices would suit Herr Starmer!
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I had another night of waking-ups. Danged if I know what was causing the jerking awakes. As far as I know, there were no Eric’s electric shocks up the leg. Anne Gyna didn’t wake me. No Shuddering Shoulder Shirley or PN leg shakes. Can’t remember any movements from Twitching-Neck Nigel, either. It may have been Thought-Storming Steve, but I’d usually remember after he calls on me. Just another of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is causing me to lose my marbles? I’m just crumbling physically & mentally!
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I surrendered my thoughts of getting any sleep – yet again, as the worries and concerns of my current position took hold of my brain cells. The needs of the day were pondered over. The Iceland delivery. Ringing the Social Lady about the lack of a laundry service, financial assistance, domestic assistance, and the Prescription routine that I can’t grasp, leaving me short of tablets. I had been hoping to get these services from the new carers. Lovely carers; I would have run out of Warfarin had Akmar not called on his way home at the chemist, who rang the Doctor and issued some, which he brought to me. Thanks, mate! Now, the daunting task of mopping the wet room, washing, and hanging some nightshirts and socks is not easy with Metal Mickey, the four-pronged walking stick, being used simultaneously. It was a blessing & treat that at least was not in attendance. So, I decided to wash some socks and shirts. The dressing gowns are too heavy for me to handle, and despite having about six gowns, five of them are still in the laundry bag, waiting to be taken to the laundry. What I’m going to do, I don’t know! Ringing the chemist and Social Services to plead for help is my only option. Finally, I forced myself out of bed and emptied the nocturnal pouch.
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I sorted the laundry bag contents. I took out the socks and long nightshirts, aiming to handwash them and hang them on coat hangers to drip dry. The socks were above the kitchen sink, and the shirts were in the wet room and hung on the shower rail. Three Kagoules on the shower rail, and then I went back to the kitchenette to get the socks done and hung, in the kitchen sing. On my way back, the left hand started with ‘cramps’, with Arthur Itis joining in when I returned to the kitchen. It was so painful, and it looked well-gnarled to me. I took a photograph of the hand. I’m not used to so much hand-wringing. I think that was probably the cause of the bother. Next, I had the pleasure of struggling with the Yoahoules and ended up with cramps and Arthritis in my left hand from all the wringing out. I got all three finished. I might add that it was, putting it lightly, painful. Hehe!
I got them hung up in the wet room on the shower rails. I don’t think I can cope with this handwashing. Well, I can, I suppose, but it’s not the easiest of jobs. At one stage, I had a mini seizure and got water over the sink, floor, and me! In three days, they will have to be done again. Using the immersion heater to dry the clothes must be costing me a fortune. Humph!
at the very thought of it. I rang the NCC Social to point out what I’m struggling with. I got a recorded message: This number is temporarily out of order.
Fancy that, me being unlucky! Humph!
Then, I had to clean up the mess from the spilt water, during which I splashed a little more, and the Water Alarm activated. I didn’t get a call from NCC Control, so I assumed it was because their phones were out of action. I just have to keep smiling and have a glimmer of hope in my heart! Grottleburgers & Huh!

I’m EPO now. Extremely Pissed Off!
I made a brew of Glengetti and dunked a large cookie while looking out the window and feeling sorry for myself. I’m doing a lot of that lately. And has still not visited me yet, today. Just an extended spell of several hours of . Grumph!

A house below in the view was pumping out steam or smoke. It didn’t last long, though. Steam, I think, cause it evaporated quickly, as it shows in the picture. I thought I’d taken another shot of the been-done-up house.
But can I find it? No!

ICELAND FOOD ARRIVED.
Many items are not available, but it is a Monday.
The driver took the bags into the kitchen for me.
Cleaning paraphernalia.
Another insane Inchy glitch!
The cakes were part of a special of 5 for £5.
I thought I’d ordered only one and four other items.
Another Inchy Whoopsiedangleplop there!
The six bags of Cheez-Its were stored away.

Great news. The clock calendar has got to cyber-friend Tim in Albuquerque. He sent this photo via email. I’m so glad he liked it. About time I could do something for him. Instead of the other way.

I repeatedly tried to reach NCC Social Care in the afternoon, but the phones were still down.
So I called the prisons… I mean, the flats ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Deana. , who kindly told me to ring back later if I couldn’t get through. I couldn’t get through two more times, so I rang her back. After explaining my concerns, she kindly said she would try another line and rang me back an hour later.
But I got it wrong somewhere along the line, and it was the Carer Company that she rang. So I still need to let the Social lady know tomorrow.
The lady told Deana that the laundry, domestic, and Financial assistance are all known to the caregivers, and the ones today knew nothing about them.
So, I’ve got to carry on hand washing until someone tells the carers. Still, these things must happen when they are hastily called to take me on. I’m not sure how they will manage them during the duration of their ten-minute calls. No doubt things will get sorted eventually. I’m just getting more profoundly in the poo with the bank and tax letters, the laundry, and the medications routine I need to do. No, the Carer’s boss said they are to do the medications; again, they (the Caregivers) know nothing about this. It may come out alright eventually or drive me to suicide… you decide. Hehehe! Only joking! If anyone wants to buy five dirty dressing gowns and a laundry bag, I can supply them with softener and laundry capsules at a fair price. Haha!.

I really must get something to eat now.
As Arnie said, “I’ll be back!” Har-har!

I snapped the meal, but it was not on the card or Camera Tim 2. It seemed to have somehow ended up in the ether again.

Photo from earlier.
Can you see the octopus?

I spoke with Carer Ahmed about the problem with the tasks I’m paying for not being done. We agreed that the medications I did last Monday would be taken over by him, and the chemist would be contacted each Monday starting next Monday. I will ask him if he can call the chemist if he calls while they are open so I can clarify what exactly needs to be done datewise, etc., and the timings.
I think we might be getting somewhere here.

It was very late by the time I got my head down for yet another ever-waking-up night’s lack of sleep. 

I’d not had a shower or shave, and this blog has much left to do. Tomorrow, it will be another late finishing time, likely in the afternoon. But no blame is being passed to anyone. The two carers who said they did not know of the Financial, domestic, or laundry requirements seem decent chaps. They are time-constrained. Is that the right word? 

Once things are clarified, I expect the Carers to start running more smoothly when we all know what’s what and arrange things so they have the time to get things done. I pray! Fingers crossed.

Tomorrow will be even busier, so less will be done on Tuesday’s blog.
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TTFNski!
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