Thursday 21st May 2020
Croatian: Četvrtak, 21 Svibnja 2020
03:10hrs: Cor blimey, what a topsy-turvy shambolic, fragmented, state of mind I woke-up in! Thought-Storming, one second I was full of hope and confidence, another thought path, and I was down and dejected. Fears and worries floated into the grey-cells, and apprehensions took the lead. My doubts, insecurity, then self-consciousness ruled the roost. All these emotions seemed to be fulgurating, fighting for superiority over each other in my temporarily warped brain? Maybe I had been having a bad dream? I cannot remember.
Not exactly like magic, but suddenly, as the need for a wee-wee arrived, a clarity of sentience and semi-lucidity returned, and the diurnal battle to get out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, not working, rickety recliner began. And I won, hands down this morning! Sanctimonious-Mode-Adopted!
There was no toe-stubbing, no dropping back into the chair, no loss-of-balance, no knocking anything off of anywhere. Saccades Sandra, Duodenal Donald, Reflux Roger, no Dennis Dizzy bother either. With a distinctive swagger of the head, I made my way to the wet room.
Please don’t think things were pain-free; they haven’t been that since the Stroke. Arthur Itis, the feet and toes, and Anne Gyna were making sure I suffered this morning. Might as well see the funny-side, Hahaha!
As I got in the door, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. I thought urgently, so down on the raised plastic seat… I passed the wee-wee of an LDSSM (Long-Dribbling-Spraying-Splashing-Marathon) variety. But the evacuation from the rear, yet again back in full control Constipation Konrad, went back to the part-
release, a blockage, and just sit in agony waiting for the motion to restart! Silver-Lining-Found: The crossword book was utilised, and despite the ‘I think-I-might-burst-open pains, I got a few clues answered. When the evacuation restarted, at the behest and control of Constipation Konrad, the pinnacle-of-pain was endured. Eyaabuggerit-Gargh!
I will have to ring the surgery to ask for advice over these repetitively, and harrowing episodes on the Throne. I got things cleaned up and medicated. New PP’s on, off to the kitchen. Silver-Lining-Found: Not so much bleeding as I had anticipated from Harold’s Haemorrhoids.
At least the plates and toes were looking less inflamed. Still, stinging, of course, and very pale again. No doubt, the Silver-Lining Found here, was the reduction in the Clopidogrel-allergy scars and lumps.
I got a sachet of Macrogol powders ready. Took the sphygmomanometer readings: Sys 157 (a little high perhaps?) Dia 79, Pulse 71, and the temperature just showed up as ‘High’ on the not working-right, thermometer. Made brew of Glengettie tea, injected the hypo of Enoxaparin then took the medications for breakfast.
While pottering around, I made a graphic with the new donated mugs, that I named during the Porcelain Throne marathon. The old plain white one as well. Why you ask?
The answer to that; would be plain and simple bonkersness! I’m losing it again. Hehe!
I checked the kitchen for taps left on, lights, and the stove was safe.
A few moments later, some drilling and banging started, boy, was it loud and close by! But I could not identify where it came from at that time, it felt like it from all around the flat on the same level?
I started updating the Wednesday blog, and went on the Googlemail checking something, and found an email from Jenny. Hopefully, Morrisons will allow me and have in stock, the tissues for Jenny. Got them on the list though.
I took a photo from the balcony, on the left here. At long last, I got the Wednesday post finished. Emailed the link. Pinterested some snaps. Replied to a massive list of comments (Both of them). Then onto TFZer and Winwood Facebooking. By the time I’d finished, I thought I could my hair growing again. Went on the WordPress reader section.
Then I got a reminder email, from Iceland about the priority hour for orders. So I made one up.
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Then, I tended to my ablutioning duties. As I was cutting my gums and doing the teeth cleaning, the loud drilling noise returned, and it shook the things in the wet room, including me! I had to turn off the radio. Because the combined noise meant that if the Amazon chap arrived with the Hickory delivery or the Nurse for the blood-taking, I wouldn’t be able to hear them when they used the intercom.
Which meant my rushing the cleaning duties a little, causing a few Accifauxpas along the way. I ended up with three cuts to the gums, two nicks shaving, a tumble in the shower and several dropsies. But it could have been worse! Silver-Lining Search Result. Hahaha!
As I was drying off, ready to do the medicationalisationing, the noise stopped for a bit.
I’ve no idea why, unless it was the heat and moisture? But, the old Heart Op scares seemed more prominent.
The pins (legs) looked a lot betterer, though. The feet and toes were still bad, I must ask Deana if she knows of any Podiatrists still working.
I nearly dropped the camera when taking the leg shot. With having to use one hand to lift a certain appendage up so it did not show on the photo, and using the other hand to operate the Panasonic, and Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters let me down for the first time today! Unlucky? Me? Yes! But I’m not going to complain, the ailments are not too bad at all, overall.
As I left the wet room, to get some clothes to put on, the landline rang out and flashed! Tsk! I know I’m twelve-floors up, but with the balcony door wide open, one gets the feeling that walking around naked is not a good idea! I answered the phone, and it was Sister Jane. Who, on being advised of my current clothing-not-on status, said she’d ring back later.
Back to the wet room to medicate, and freshen up certain areas of my gargantuanly massive and flobby-bellied body. Put the Saccades Sandra drops in, Olive-oiled the ears, and the noise of the drilling suddenly came back on. I dropped the olive oil pot, and it broke! AS I cleaned the mess up, the drilling stopped again. Humph! Then I Phorpain gelled Arthur Itis’s knees and Craig Cramp’s wrists and as best I could get to them, the ankles.
Now fully clothed, pissed-off, and in pain from Anne Gyna and Duodenal Donald, with all the bending I had to do, I skulked off to the kitchen to make a brew before Jane rang back. The drilling noises started again. So, I took some Codeine 30g, to hopefully ease the pains from the tumble in the shower, and having to get down on my knees and back up to clean the dropped olive oil.
I got the Hickory delivery parcel, of two bottles, opened. I hope this brand is strong. The Stubbs one was so expensive. These two bottles cost me £14 quid! But this is chaper than the Stubbs, but that was good… I’m getting tired now and all confused.
Silver Lining Search Results: But at least it was a bit of much-needed exercise, I suppose. And the noisy drilling had stopped again. Ee, by gum, worra life!
I took a picture from the kitchen window, one of the beautiful afternoon sky.
As I had a perusal of the scene below, I spotted an ambulance on-site, on Chestnut Walk.
Oh, dear! It as parked close toe the EXtra-Care Winwood Court as well. I just hope whatever they are here for, is not anything too serious.
The drilling and banging noise made me jump again as it started off. Sounds like it is coming from Josie’s apartment this time? Certainly somewhere close, anyway.
The landline rang and flashed as Sister Jane rang me back as promised. We had a nice chinwag and laugh for ages. I was a little concerned, cause she didn’t tell me off until she’d been on the phone for twenty minutes. Hahaha! I’ll try to ring her tomorrow.
Then, well into the afternoon now, at long last, eventually, I got started on this diary for today!
I had to get some fodder sorted, very late now. Chips of some sort, and ham and tomato breas thins sandwiches sounded a good idea to me.
I soon had the food on the plate, and satiated my allotriophagy. Even though the chips were disappointingly bland, I gave this efforts 6.5/10 for a Flavour-Rating.
I remember washing the pots, and although obviously a lot of things happened afterwards, I can recall nowt until waking up in the mornings, to many signs and clues to guess at what took place.
Worra a life!
01:00hrs: I stirred from my short, disturbed slumber, finding myself in a perky mood. Unnatural, this was, for elegiac Inchcock.
Neck & Shoulders: The persistent of late, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was twitching a bit, I’m not sure if she was dying down from a nocturnal attack, or building up ready for a morning assault. A little dubious about this; hopefully, she’ll not get any worserer. The stiffness from last night in the neck was a lot easier. Silver-Lining?
I was so pleased to be able to get back into the balcony to take some photographs. (Thanks, to Obergruppenführer, Prima Ballerina, and Warden Deana) In my excitement, I forgot about the damned metal-spring retaining clip, that needs to be pushed to bend, and pulled to open at the same time. Of course, Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters failed at just the most inopportune moment, and I now have a tiny, but painful blood-blister on my thumb! Arglebonkangony! 
Note, the threatening, ‘It’s your fault’ pointing finger? The grand service I had from the then, Richard Branson owned and ran Internet service, is much lamented. It has been crippled and destroyed since Fries mob took it over. But I’m not jealous, oh, no! The saddest part is the service is still better than the one I had when I used BT (British Telecom) years earlier.
I made up the box of recyclable materials, then three bags for the chute. 
I had a peep out of the small window in the link passage, that shows part of Woodthorpe Grange Park, at the rear of the building. 
I had a perusal of the notice boards but did not see anything new on them to be of any interest to me. 
Dizzy Dennis paid me a visit at this point. A bad one, but short-lived, thankfully. Conveniently placed, the wall was utilised for a second or two. Hehehe!
even gloomier looking lift lobby. 
I hobble away, feeling guilty, and spotted some new colourful growth amongst the trees at the end of Chestnut Walk. 
I investigated the Hickory costs. Always high, but I can’t find any for sale anywhere else. 
It took an awfully long time for me to get to the door. On the floor outside the door, was a carrier bag. Some kind soul had kindly gifted me three cups (the three are on the right in this photo, the first one being my current favourite mug). Bless them, I wonder who it was? Jenny? Josie? Deana? I put the cups in the bowl after taking this snap of them. 
04:55hrs: I awoke from my dream-filled stupor, and began to try and recall anything I’d nocturnally envisaged. I knew without thinking that I was underground, caves, being chased, running away from someone… several people, they were shooting arrows at me… but no more recollections were gleaned. I do hate it when this happens! 
As I rose from the rickety, second-hand, c1968, uncomfortable, none-operational, recliner, things seemed to be going well. Until it came to putting down my feet, and standing up, with the massively-stomach-burdened part of the body, falling down with a boing-boinging motion, adding all that weight on the pins! The smarting from under the feet! Sheer pain flowed back up to the brain. Again! Argh-gaggle-strain! 
I got through to the computer in Junk-Room-Mark 11, with a degree of determination to get on with updating of the Monday blog (Better late than never!) 
The parcel, was the wind-up torch, from Amazon. 
I checked on the mushrooms cooking in the crock-pot, the need a little longer yet. 
Well, I might have known or guessed. II had another Dizzy Dennis visit en route, lost the balance a smidge, enough to give my head a klunk on the door frame edge. I did swear! 
I went to the kitchen to get the meal done. The Taste-Rating was 7/10. 
03:00hrs: I stirred into semi-life, with a lightness not felt for a long time. 
Took the medications, and made a brew. Then to the computer, where much work awaited me. With the Morrison order coming twixt six>seven o’clock, I worked as fast as I could manage, to give myself time to get the Ablutions done, before the arrival of the fodder. 
I got an email from Morrison’s arrive. They have made some substitutions. Instead of Sweet potato battered fritters (one of my favourites), they sent McCain shake, shake sea and salt fries? Which will be no good for me, The freezer will accept no more frozen food. Also, I was well pleased to see when I put the order in, that they had some orange concentrated liquid wash in stock, and ordered one. It wasn’t really needed, but the chance to get my favourite orange-scented one was too good to miss for me. Well, I missed it! They sent Lychee & Passionfruit as a substitute. Eurgh! Gits! The worst thing for me was the frozen McCain substituted, which wasn’t even battered, or sweet potato that I had ordered! Gits!
I got the delivery into the kitchen a bag or two at a time, and slowly stored away. I’d forgotten I’d ordered the hot dog roll, but did manage to cram the bread thins into the freezer. It took me a good while.
others under the sink in the kitchen. 
Perhaps subconsciously, to delay the pain of doping the mopping, that I knew was coming? Tsk! 
A few months ago, and this task would not have been considered a problem in the least. But now, it was a mammoth undertaking for this overweight, short, plump, pain bearing, lack of confidence-ridden, depressed, fed-up, bald, bespectacled, lonely, confused, memory-challenged, zeyde! 
Got the fodder prepped and served up.Hot dogs with tomatoes, onions, gherkins, the odd, weird fries, a lemon mousse, and two apple pies, and a mug of orange juice. Flavour Rating 6/10, those substituted by Morrison’s fries were not very good. But everything else was!
01:10hrs: Worryingly, I woke with the urgent requirement for a wee-wee, again. I hastened to painfully remove my ponderosity of an over-stomached body from the £300, second-hand, c1968, rickety, rusty, filthy, not-operational recliner. Grabbed the four-pronged walking stick, and limped over to the well-used EOGPB (Emergency-Overnight-Grey-Plastic-Bucket). The wee-wee was back to the FFFONEE (Forceful-Furious-Fast-Orange-Never-Ending) style, again. 
Off to the wet room, to empty, clean and sanitise the bucket. And, just like yesterday morning, the Porcelain Throne had to be utilised. The evacuation was identical as well, Constipation Konrad in full charge of the flow, stop stuck, paining, and started again. Silver-Lining-Found: No bleeding. 
Having made my mind up to put in the maximum effort, I turned to get the stick, and I stubbed my toe against the waste box corner. I just don’t how I resisted yelling out. But a lot of wincing and grimacing, accompanied with a few silent curses, sufficed, this time. 
Made a search for the latest Nottingham and Country Coronavirus figures. Oh, dear! A discrepancy, I think that the blue-writing is for a later date or time?
In my haste, I turned rather quickly and had a little dizzy spell. Resulting in a toe-stubbing against the Ottoman! But it didn’t bother me in the slightest, I just carried on… 
the twelfth floor and my flat. Not turning out to be one of my best days, is it? 
I got the black bags taken to the waste chute, and Oh, boy, were the feet humming and hurting. Especially the toes! 
I got some of the spuds delivered in the crock-pot, sea salt and drop of vinegar to season them. Can you see the can of baked beans and tomatoes sent in my food parcel, behind the slow-cooker? 840g! 
A steak and kidney pie, sliced the potatoes, a few silverskin onions, and far too many petit-pois. (But I ate them, and everything else on the tray!) I made some rich gravy to go on it. Two Marmite rice cakes, and a lemon mousse to follow. 
Got the TV on. I wasn’t really watching it though, but sometimes it helps me fall to kip, but not tonight. 
03:10hrs: I woke with a melee of mixed memories from the dreams I’d been having, floating about in my head. But they soon dissipated off into the ether. 
I’d scribbled endless reminders over several pages of the writing pad (not that I can remember doing so). Hundreds of words, with about ten of them readable! Humph! By all accounts, I had dreams all through the night, but working out what they were about was impossible. Although I was not surprised to identify the words chasing and chased. So annoying. Because for me to have bothered writing about them, they could well of been interesting and worth recording? Fangleklops! 
I got things cleansed, and spruced-up, and dropped the towel down by the WC. I bent down to pick it up. Which, in itself was a stupid thing to do, with the small picker-upperer hanging inches away on the seat-raiser, and not used! I fell forwards with a little encouragement from Dizzy Dennis and caught my tackle against the corner bar. Started Little Inchies fungal lesion bleeding! I had to go through the painful process of cleaning and medicating the lesion, and it was almost too much for me to cope with. AAArgh! Distinguableness!
And to think, a few minutes ago, I was moaning to myself because I couldn’t remember the dreams I’d had. I had to sit down for a minute or two. Changed the PP’s and medicated all delicate areas in need. The now getting thinner than ever, pins (legs) looked a lot better, at least. It’s a good job I accidentally bought the last pair of slippers a size too much. (Silver-Lining search result)
I got the kettle on and amassed the medicinal needs. The hemadynamometer readings were okay, I think, Sys 164, Dia 68, Pulse 77. The thermometer is still playing up and not showing any figures, just ‘Low.’ I got the medications taken, adding a Senna and took Macrogol drink (will I ever beat Constipation Konrad, Hehe!) Olive-oiled the ear-holes. Sprayed Saccades liquid in the eyes, and made a brew of Morrison Extra Strong Assam tea. 
I made a start on this blog. Then got the ablutions tended to, in case the mobile shop comes. The session went very well. 
On my way back to the foyer, some of the Nottingham City Homes lads, who restarted work this week, along with some Water Control chaps were working away.
I rushed about and got myself down in the lift with the old three-wheeler, and Steve the caretaker and some resident (I knew them but could not recall the names, as is usual for me) And greeted them, and a few people were scattered about at a safe distance waiting. They moved outside as 12:00hrs was approached. I still managed a bit of nattering again.
When the van came, at ten-past twelve, Roy, Betty and Lynne were waiting, and when the van opened up, they all kindly waved my forward to go first. Now, this might sound soppy, but I appreciated that a lot. The legs, feet and toes were all giving me some hassle, and Shaking Shaun was visiting now. Bless them! 
Bacon now baked, tomatoes sliced, cheese and two Marmite Riced cakes, and brown thins, a lemon mousse, medications and a mug of orange juice all got ready on the tray. Off to and on my knees and more-than-ample belly in the recliner. Flavour Rating; 8.5/10, it went down very well, my coenaculous, satisfied! 
Got the pots washed, had a wee-wee, washed and medicated, and back down in the uncomfortable, second-hand, c1968 recliner. Noticed the veins in the right leg, and thought it was fattening up, or filling up with fluid a smidge. Also, a fresh pinkish whatever was coming up on the foot. Fingers crossed that it is not the start of another leg ulcer. No itching or pain from it at all. 
03:40hrs: I awoke, the expergefactor, not surprisingly, was wanting a wee-wee, and willingly risked life and limb, in a desperate dash, come hobble to get to the well-used-overnight, slightly ponging GPEB (Grey-Plastic-Emergency-Bucket). I made it with seconds to spare. Out-shot the HPLBSS (Hosepipe-Like-Blasting-Suddenly-Stopping) release! The only difference to yesterdays repeated visits was a change in colour. The strong orange tinge had become a saffron yellow one now. But, still no pain with it, so I wasn’t complaining, considering how viciously it blasted out! 
As the brain joined me, and my balance was ensured, I took the GPEB with me to get it washed and antisepticised, and I limped with it, getting it tangled with the four-pronged walking stick and my left leg at one time, (Quiet funny, even at the time), en route to the wet room. No injuries or toppling over was involved. Smug Expression Adopted!
Python’s 
I got the kettle on, and made up and drank a sachet Macrogol drink, and took a Senna, along with the morning doses.
All looked okay to me. 
As I put on the jacket, I’d not worn it for months, I smelt its aroma, cor, it was mucky and a bit smelly. 
I got some of the potatoes in the big slow-cooker and added the mushrooms to them.No idea what I aim to have, but it must go with mushrooms and boiled spuds, Hahaha!
Got the black bags to the waste chute and put down. (Oh, the feet and toes!) I’m getting near to the darkness now again, emotionally.
the glass and white bag. 
Off for another wee-wee, this one was turning back to orange coloured? Mmm?
I got the nosh prepared and served up, it didn’t look too bad, left the pots soaking in the sink. 
And to think, there are people out there who are bored with the lock-down?
I got the impression that I may have been doing some Nocturnal somnambulationing! As I took this shot going into the kitchen, so many things were not in their usual places, and the washed long-sleeved shirts, had been moved about on their hangers?
not-so-bright side, my left foot did hit the frame as well, and the message of agony in the toes was definitely sent! Arumsquatulistions, it hurt like hell! It did for hours! Humph!
Figures have shown the total amount of people across the county who have tested positive for coronavirus. As of Monday, May 11, there are now 569 confirmed cases in the city boundary and 1,224 across the wider county. 
It comes after Nottingham University Hospitals NHS Trust (NUH), which runs Queen’s Medical Centre and Nottingham City Hospital, confirmed two more coronavirus patients have died. Medical director Dr Keith Girling said the patients were aged 46 and 97.
d to bring a smile to my face, I’ll mention that the sock-glide was not utilised again. I’m not looking forward to having to wear socks again! 
e bags and a recycling box, and got them in and on the three-wheeled walker, ready to take down to chute and bin. I used the box that the headphones came in for the recycling stuff to go in.
cerning. To save time; unless there is a change of circumstances or variety, I’ll try to avoid the urge of doing so. 
so painful, I could have laughed out loud at myself. 
some tenants squashing big load of stuff down, and blocking the shaft, repeatedly. They still do it, of course. 
Said my farewells, (I swear I could see relief come over their faces, Tsk!) and made my way back up in the elevator to the flat, a tad sad at leaving the human contact behind. 
Then the intercom sounded. It was volunteer helper Sarah, who had fetched my prescriptions for me. This is so kind and helpful. I got to open the door before she got up to the flat, and found a parcel laying there on the floor? 
l Got the bag of prescription into the kitchen. There was no Duodenal Donald medicine in it, but I had some, so this might be the month when they skip it, no fretting. I’m afraid they are using the blue & white pods again for the daily dose trays. Just like the last time. The tablets are sticking to the inside of the plastic, with the static electricity used to seal them. I’ll have to take proper care when getting them out, or else it will be like two months ago when the smaller tablets had got stuck underneath the top sheet and I couldn’t get at them without making a decoration of tablets on the kitchen floor. 
The Amazon parcel was the second reserve head
Off to put the pasties in with the spuds now. 
00:00hrs: No sleep again, second night in the trot. I reckon all the worries are getting to me again. No medications left again. Thank you, Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, just up from the Lidl store, who have not delivered anything yet, and now I’m up the creek without a paddle. I must try to ask Reichsführeress and Catwalk Model Warden Deana if she can find the time to ring them for me, to ascertain what’s what. But they are always so busy, especially on a Monday. My biggest worry is if I have done something silly with pills while I was having one of my feared memory blanks, I’ve had a couple of ‘Blanks’, this last week.
I made a brew of Glengettie Gold, turned the computer off. 
Made brew, and took this snap of the crisp, bright morning. Then I started this blog off. I soon got sidetracked to the Porcelain Throne again. Another none-movement-session. 
11:12hrs: That was a
I went for a wee-wee and took
I got some baked beans, and added a packet of black bean sauce and stirred it in well, to marinate, then got it on a low heat on the hob. 
Herbert sounded busy with his modelling this morning. I checked on Amazon for the ETA/tracker for the headphones.
It was the Amazon delivery of the cheapo headphones. 
03:55hrs: I woke, with frantic thoughts still storming around at random in my sadly confused head. Wind emitting from the rear end, RAI (Rheumatoid-Arthur-Itis) was giving me some electric-shock like stabbing pains in both knees, before I’d even moved my legs!
‘Will I be able to get the balcony door lock to open?’ Somewhat rather hopefully: ‘Is the Carrington Pharmacy, 343-345 Mansfield Rd, Carrington, Nottingham NG5 2DA, just down the road from the Lidl store, Telephone number: 0115 960 5453, going to let me down once again with the non-delivery of my prescriptions?’ ‘I could sense that Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding, can I put up with the pain of cleaning and medicating it again?’ 
All thoughts were abandoned at this stage. To be replaced with the urgent need for me to avoid any embarrassment, and get to the Porcelain Throne in time. Removing my obesely overweight stomached body from the depths of the £300, second-hand, recliner, was achieved without any Accifauxpas, caught my balance, grabbed the walking stick and hobbled rapidly as I could to the wet room. 
Got the kettle on for the Thompsons Punjana, and got some mushrooms in the crock-pot, to use later o both meals. Salt and the last drop of hickory were added for seasoning. 
Astronomicalisations! What a proper old-time ablutions session that was, folks. Not a single-cut shaving! Little Inchies fungal lesion temporarily healed, so no bleeding! Harold’s Haemorrhoids were also bloodless! No visits from Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun. Neuropathic Pete’s leg dancing, Shoulder-Shuddering Shirley, or Anne Gyna! I am Gobsmacked, flabbergasted! 
A dash of after-shave, a spray of deodorant, and Phorpain gelled the knees. Olive-oiled the ears, Sprayed the Saccades water in the eyes and cleaned the glasses. Made sure I’d got the right PP’s in the new bag (The last lot of XXL’d kept dropping down!). Got the bath towel on the clothes airer. 
Off to the kitchen. 
Back to the kitchen and got the spuds done up and served on the plate. Tomatoes, gherkins, cheese discs, silverskin onions, Tuna flakes in brine, the mushrooms, some extra-strong cheddared potatoes with butter and sea salt. choco bar, Limoncello dessert and a can of Gordon’s G&T. 
I espied some dogs taking their owners for a walk in the bottom field, and took this snap on the right of them. 
I thought maybe I’d better have something to eat. So, I demolished what was left of the cheesy potatoes in the bowl, and put the basin to soak with the cutlery.
r TV. Oh, and an extension cable. Got the details of the delivery trackers via email. Headphones ETA Monday up to 22:00hrs. Cheapo set headphones, Wednesday 13th up to 21:00hrs. The extension lead due; Thursday 21st May. Ah, well!
I returned in the flat and thought I’d better get something to nibble too, to try and settle the stomach, that was kicking-off as well now. I wasn’t up to cooking anything more, but then again was not hungry particularly hungry. I got a paper-plate made up. Last of the decent tomatoes, the mini-Melton Mowbray pork pies from Friday, and a few Marmite rice cakes. I didn’t eat all of the pies, just two. But had I not felt so tired, I might have gone to fetch some more Marmite cakes, they tasted delicious.