PTSD
I am suffering from anxiety.
For the last few months the meeja has delighted in telling me how the Virus restrictions were causing depression and anxiety, particularly amongst us aged “caccooners”. That was a load of bollox. Never once did any of their “lock down” restrictions cause any depression or even a twinge of anxiety simply because I ignored all of them.
Now I’m not made of stone and the situation has indeed aroused some emotion in me, but that emotion was mainly annoyance and frustration. I was annoyed at the constant ubiquitous mentions of the Virus, such as the advertisement that the HSE placed on just about every satellite channel telllng us what the fucking Virus was and what the fucking symptoms were and the tacky slogans that were/are all pervasive.
As from today, just about all the major restrictions have been removed. As far as I am aware, all pubs, shops, restaurants and hairdressers and their ilk can resume business [subject of course to their “anti-social distancing” ].
So why my sudden attack of anxiety?
Well, I’m tied to the house today as I’m expecting deliveries and a visitor, so I can’t go down to the village this afternoon. That is the cause of my anxiety….
Is my coffee shop open at last?
Isn't that a royal pain in the arse? I can virtually guarantee that the moment I pop out to the back garden the bloody postie or courier will turn up, and by the time I spot the "Sorry, you were out" card, they will be long gone. I try and get eBay deliveries as "Click & Collect" and sent to my local supermarket's Argos branch, but not all sellers give this option.
It's also certain that if I'm expecting a phone call, I will either be 1) on the bog or 2) speaking on the other phone (mobile or landline, it doesn't seem to matter which way round…)
I waited all afternoon for that delivery. It was supposed to arrive between two and four. At half four I checked my confirmation email and discovered the delivery was for Tuesday, not Monday. Bugger! Another afternoon of waiting.
Deliveries of stuff seem to fall into a simple pattern here. Apart from groceries, the delivery bloke just walks in, leaves the parcel outside the front door and walks out again without ringing the bell. It's up to me to check outside occasionally.
There seems to be so many things to be annoyed about these days that I'm afraid that I might become permanently annoyed. And I'd really be annoyed by that.
Hope your coffee shop is open. Isn't that where Penny gets her bits of chicken?
Having developed a philosophy of generally ignoring everything that goes on in the outside world, the only thing that annoys me now is myself [and Cat]. Unfortunately there is little I can do about that?
Best stay where you are and stay alive.
There is a world of difference between staying alive and living.
Long-time no speak – the virus and the associated bollocks is crap. However there are laughs to be had from the pearl clutching covid drama queens.
I get a paper from our filling station most mornings – when this rubbish started there was very little traffic – one morning I was just finishing a chat with Andrew – saw woman with dog about to come in – held the door open and as she passed she shouted – THAT’S NOT SIX FOOT – I think she meant thank you for holding the door. Ever since she hasn’t spoken and the dog growls.