Monday 20th April 2020
Hungarian: 2020. április 20., hétfő
From approximately midnight, I had Thought Storms aplenty. Broken by a precious few nod-offs, they were only a few minutes long, the instant I jumped awake, it was as if I had been searching in my slumber, for worries, concerns, and fears, building them up for when I woke, and the soul-destroying Brain-Storming recommenced!
04:30hrs: I woke for the umpteenth time, and all signs of mental aggravation had gone. I was no longer bedevilled! Not knowing why this suddenly occurred was a mystery, but of no interest to me, I was just so pleased that they had. In fact, it put little life into me as I cheered-up.
Getting out of the second-hand, £300, c1968, not-working-broken-down, most cringeworthily sickening beige-coloured, rickety recliner, has not been done with such ease for many a month. I should have known better than to let myself get carried away! Good fortune, for me, is transmundane.
As I gained some semi-balance and was reaching for the four-pronged walking stick, and Dizzy Dennis had a go at me. (He’s not attacked me so ferociously for a while, but he made up for it this time!) I floundered and fortuitously fell back in the chair, via hitting my bum and piles on the way down against the arm. By ‘ecky-thump, I felt that! It took me a few minutes to gather myself, get over the shock, and then I tried (successfully) again to get up on my plates (feet).
Off to the kitchen, a little slower than usual, cause I didn’t trust Dizzy Dennis an iota. He’s a most cunning ailment. He’s on a par with Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters as top-dogs in the catching me out at the most optimum, dangerous timing, to cause me the greatest bother! The Swine!
I got the updating finished for the Sunday post and sent off. Nicodemus was particularly kind to me this morning. Then got the link Emailed. On to TFZer Facebooking, I always enjoy that. Spent an hour or three on it. Next, on the WordPress Reader section. Some great reads and photographs on there!
I had a quick check on the latest sad news from the virus.
The landline burst into sound and flashed. I thought it might be the Phlebotomy Nurse calling to say she would be in tomorrow and give me the time scale. It was Sister Jane calling, bless her.
During the socially-distanced chinwag, she told me to write clearly. I mentioned the problems that are stopping me doing so. She suggested I have plenty of time on my hands, and I should learn shorthand. Hehe!
She and Pete are waiting for their free food parcel to arrive. Jane is very disappointed with the last one. They gave her amongst the many freebies, instant coffee, they use filter coffee, mentioning with a smiling voice; ‘Of course, you don’t get a free parcel do you’ (Muffled laugh, suspiciously heard!).
She mentioned that she had been doing some cleaning. Pointing out she realises I don’t, and I should get more exercise done. After the conversation, I felt about as much use as a chocolate teapot. Hahaha!
The doorbell chimed, and I found a pot of butter on the carpet outside. Obviously the work of Angel Jenny again. Bless her cotton socks!
Some tip-tapping noises were keeping me company from somewhere, as I made a brew of Thompsons Punjana tea, and then made a start on this blog.
Within a few hours, I’d got as far as here, and the need for CorelDraw graphicalisationing grew more urgent, as I realised I was out of page-top, Thoughts and Day graphics all together! So, with the tap-tapping now accompanied by some clump-banging, I visited CorelDraw ad started what turned out be a marathon session. But only managed two of the six graphics I needed to do. Humph!
I went to make a brew of Glengettie and pictured a man and his dog.
The intercom rang forth, it was the Iceland delivery. It’ll or nothing innit? Haha!
I put a can of plonk in the hallway for the driver. He was very chuffed! Which pleased me, too.
I made a start on the problematic, complicated and time-consuming task of getting the stuff in the cupboards fridge and freezer.
The doorbells chimed out again. I was a little miffed at being disturbed in the middle of mess sorting out the groceries; but thought it might be the other pair of trousers they have not delivered yet, so my spirits raised just a tad.
It was Josie returning the tray and things from the nosh. She said she enjoyed it and was, at last, isolating herself. Both made me feel good for her.
Back in the kitchen, and crammed the stuff, after reorganising the things a little. Plenty of nosh in now. Bleach might be a problem, but not yet, I’ve now got a bottle and a half left, so things are not anywhere near desperate.
I got the oven warming up. Then pondered on what to have for the nosh, my choices were multitudinous. Hahaha!
I thought I’d have some of the oddly called ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’ from Iceland, chips. This will mean more room in the freezer. Some cooked meat of some sort; or sausages will make a little room in the fridge for me.
It really is jam-packed in there now.
I nipped to have a wash, nothing serious, like an ablutions session, mind.
Crumps and botherations! I knocked the clock off of the toilet top, and guess where it fell?
I assume you’ve guessed right. Straight down into the water in the water in the WC. Grrr! So very-most annoying!
I got the chips in the oven and sorted out the nosh ingredients available to use. Then I made a start on one of the most flavourful noshes of the year so far! Inspired, I was. Mind you, I kept changing my mind of what meat to have, ending up with one of the turkey sausages.
A wholemeal cob, a bottle of spring water, a terribly crumbly tasteless apple (One bite was enough to convince me to bin it!), and a Skinny Bar nougat (Tasty) were the extras.
The main plateful was the best bit. ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’ I seasoned with black pepper and vinegar, the Netherlands-grown Piccalo tomatoes were fantastic considering how out of season they were, sea-salted. I used some of the frozen petit pois for the first time and added some demerara sugar. I was not too impressed with the peas, but everything else on the plate went down fine and flavoursome. A rating of 9.26/10!
I was so impressed with my effort, I took shots of it from different angles on the tray. Did you notice the last picture had something added for an extra treat? Hahaha!
I ate it all up (Well, not the crap apple) masticating so slowly and savouring it. Apart from the fruit being thrown away, I ate and enjoyed the lot. It was about the time I made a decent meal!
Into the kitchen to do the washing up. I spotted two youths on the bottom field, a skateboarder and a cyclist, so my hackles-lifted. I’m not sure if they were rolling spliffs, cigarettes, or taking crack, but I took this decentish shot of them. When I viewed it on the camera, I realised the Saccades Sandra as playing and jumping about my focussing, shame! I used this shot as a background and made a Thoughts graphic in the morning.
I was determined to get some sleep tonight. (Huh!)
Took the medications, and as I got settled into the £300, second-hand recliner, I soon realised I needed to use my hands to feel my way safely into the seat. (Luckily, Nicodemus’s Neortramsmitters’, and Shaking Shaun didn’t visit me st the time) Saccades Sandra was bad tonight, and I could not use the ploy of watching TV to help me get to sleep. Getting the focus right, too bothersome and headache encouraging. Then Toothache Tim kicked off. This was not going to be a peaceful night, methought. Sadly, I was right! I eventually got myself into a semi-comfortable position. Pulled the woolly hat over my eyes, and prayed that the Thought-Storms would not start.
The landline phone rang and flashed. I fumbled to get my spec’s on and get to the phone in time. It was my new Phlebotomy nurse. She will be calling in the morning between 0800hrs and 12:00hrs, to take the Warfarin Blood for testing. I thanked her, and returned to the chair, noticing that Saccades had eased off, and I could focus easier again. Which was good!
For some unknown, but pleasant reason, the Thought-Storms did not arrive. Which, on the face of it, was magnificently encouraging thing.
But the IBON (Inchcocks-Bundle-of-Nerves), anxiety and agitation attacks started the moment I got back down in the recliner! I really cannot recall how many times I struggled up, to go and check on something, taps (faucets) lights, oven, wet room sink, etc. over the next few hours. By the time I dropped of, the physical efforts and mental fatigue helped me nod-off.
At least I got a few hours in. Hey-Ho!
03:15hrs: I woke up, with the theme tune, “Life, is the name of the game, and I wanna play the game with you” ringing in my head? 
I shall not go into too much detail of the terrible, trying, tantamount to agony-ridden evacuation. But Constipation Conrad had the upper-hand in the battle. I was on the Throne for about 20-minutes. The crossword book as tackled. Blood flowed. And all with the one line of the ‘the Generation Game’ milling about in my head. Hehe! 
seemed to be working okay. 
Then, carrying the tea into the junk room, I dropped the mug! I was so low in spirits, it didn’t seem to bother me much. I just cleaned up the mess, thinking how lucky I was in not breaking the cup.
Much CorelDrawing, making graphics for the blog tomorrow. 
at me as if I’m an idiot. 
I got the nosh sorted out. Chicken breast, and tried the weirdly named Iceland fries, branded as ‘Naturally Imperfect Chips’. They were okay. The chicken breasts were a bit rubbery. Some seaweed crispies and an apple on the side on another plate. Two mini-Vienesse lemon cakes. No, that’s what they are called. I went to look at the part empty box. Lemon Whirls. A can of the delightfully tangy Clementine drink, too.