Still, yer don’t like to complain does yer!

Tuesday 27th September 2016

Sprang awake at 0400hrs, desperate for a WRHD session. Climbed out of the £300 second-hand recliner chair and out and onto the Wet-Room porcelain. Bliss! Decided there would be no need for me to take any Senna with my medications later.

No recollections of any parts of the dreams I knew I’d had and didn’t like?

Went into the kitchen to make a brew and then: The mystery of the splashed water miracle!

Where did it come from, when, how, why?

I checked the cabinets, inside the cupboards, on the counters, the ceiling… no signs of anything liquid anywhere else?

Had a sniff of the paper towel as I soaked up the riddle come brain-teaser liquid. Seemed, that it had no aroma or colouring?

There were some splashes of the liquid on a bottle of a pop bottle nearby, this only confused me more as to what the heck had happened?

I checked it regularly, but there were no more appearances of any liquid after I’d soaked up what there was when I found the spillage? Befuddled, I tried to get on with doing the usual inane activities as usual, and not to worry about this almost eerie happening.

Made the brew and took the morning medications.

As I took this photo, I realised that there were only eleven tablets, not the twelve there should have been? So I checked in the pots to find out which one was missing. It was the 50g Oxycodone Capsule. Looking back into the day’s pot I’d emptied them from into my hand, there she was, clinging to the side of the bowl… not wanting to come out! Hehe! First month on these too. Dr Vindla changed the prescription for me to try these in place of the Tramadol for some reason, I forget what it as now.

I checked the kitchen floor again for leakages or spillages of liquids, but all clear. (I’m metagrabolised by the puzzling phenomenon of the liquids appearance).

Did some graphics and posted them to Facebook.

Got the latest TFZer effort completed at last. Listened to some Acker Bilk jazz while I was finishing it off.

Checked the sink floor again, no sign of the mystery leaker/splasher returning.

I think perhaps it might just have been me doing something in my sleep? Can’t think of anything else, but then, if I’d done it while sleepwalking, how did I escape from the £300 second-hand recliner? When, why, how… Oh, I’m all mixed up now thinking about it!

1010hrs: Got the ablutions done so I could be pleasant smelling and sweet, in case Olive is in when I call.

A bit of tidying up here and there, then got an Email telling me I could collect my order from Asda twixt 1800>1900hrs tonight.

Went off to visit Olive and we had a good chinwag and cuddle. She called and arranged for a taxi for me for tonight to go to and back from Arnold to collect the order. A kiss or two and a cuddle, then back to the apartment.

Got something to eat, cause I knew I’d be so tired by the time I got the shopping all sorted later.

Did some more graphicalisationing. And got a couple of big bags and went down to wait for the Taxi. Took me back thinking of when I used to work for the Cab Company DG, many years ago. I hated it.

Had a few nice mini-conversations with several tenants. A man and a woman chatted away about what horse won what race at different meetings. Obviously addicted to gambling, they then spoke about web gaming sites and which was the best to use. But they were happy. One chap has dead the same problems as I do with his memory. As he was telling me about how he was affected, I thought ‘This could be me talking!’

The DG car arrived, and we were off to Arnold in no time. Excellent driver, I told him about how things were at the company years ago, I got the impression that, apart from the computerisation of the system, things were still as bad and hate filled.

We dropped off outside Asda, him using the taxi rank to park up, and I went into the store, found the Automatic Click & Collect Machine, had to call someone to help me with it, she showed me and told me to wait here and someone will bring the goods to me. So I did. Bought a TV magazine for next week while I waited. It only took about 6 minutes or so for a gal to arrive with the order in a trolley. As I pushed it out into the street back to the cab, I wondered how much I’d been charged for waiting time?

The chap put the shopping in his boot and as I was taking the trolley back, three youngsters passing (15-16-year-olds), Took the trolley off me and said: “We’ll take that back for you old timer – have a good day!”

I was surprised and had to reevaluate my ideas about modern youth!

The driver cunningly took a slightly longer route back to the flats. Where he charged me the £13.50 (USD $17.55 – AUS $ 22.86 – CAN $ 23.20) for the trip. However, he did lift the bags into the lift for me.

In the flat, I realised why Asda had made my order a Click & Collect instead of delivery – it would have been due to my Whoopsiedangleplop on the previous order, when I forgot about it and went out, thus causing them a lot of hassle. Maybe they decided not to risk me doing the same again?

I put away the groceries and now have mega-overfull cupboards, fridge and freezers.

Got a cuppa and fell asleep. When I woke to throw away the cold mug of tea and replace it, the skyline outside looked amazing to me.

Settled again and tried to watch some TV, fell asleep again when I got a phone call on the landline. I struggled out of the £300 second-hand recliner and got to it in time. No hearing aids in of course, cause I had been using the headphones to listen to the TV. Only caught bits of what whoever it was, was saying, and he said a lot that I could not understand. I did pick up that he wanted to know what my postcode was, though. So I said ‘No’ and rang off. He rang back (I assumed it was him) three times, but I didn’t answer. I just believed it was a cold caller or someone after my details? Being half asleep and no hearing aids in when he rang… I wonder who it was? Obviously, not anyone who knew me, or they would not have rung at this time of night knowing I’d be flaked out?

Tsk!