Thoughts on being a quitter
I give up.
Well, no, I am on the verge but haven’t quite tipped over yet.
It has been two weeks now since the latest mayhem struck causing tidal waves to rise on my otherwise still pond of life. It seems a lot longer
I have become a dirty old man. I haven’t become a flasher with a grubby raincoat [I don’t have one] or anything, it’s just that I am tired of tidying. If I blow my nose on a sheet of kitchen paper [my deposit of choice] I just fuck the snot ridden paper onto the floor where it joins all the other dog-piss ridden pieces of paper that litter the place, like some surreal mosaic.
I’ll pick them up sometime. But I haven’t the energy now. In fact I haven’t really got the energy to do anything. I’m knackered. Fucked.
I reasonably well stocked for the future. Groceries were delivered yesterday. I ordered the 12 t0 2 slot but the delivery bloke phoned at two to say the van had broken down and he’d be an hour late. In fact he was two and a half hours late but at least I have my stock of whiskey topped up now. It’s sorely needed.
The painters were to come at twelve yesterday to paint the back wall and tidy the place. They never turned up.
I’m all right for food as Daughter came up trumps and started cooking dinners for me and delivering them in plastic boxes. The only problem is that she kept coming before I had finished the previous lot so now the fridge and freezer are jammed. I have enough to survive a nuclear winter. There won’t be any more for a while anyway because she has come down with The Winter Vomiting Virus [in May?] and is evacuating her insides out at both ends. Poor kid.
Penny now just sleeps all day. She wakes up occasionally and goes for a wander around the house which invariably results in a little whimper which is her sign she has collapsed and needs helping to her feet again. Then she wanders around some more, pisses on the carpet and goes back to bed again. She has food and water and also a nightdress belonging to Herself which she sniffs regularly to remind herself that someone else used to live here.
The nose is starting to keep me awake. When I do get to sleep it wakes me early. Seven, this morning. And I’m becoming addicted to Nurofen [oh blessed capsule and killer of pain].
Maybe time for a doze now?
I give up.
A long shot. Clove oil reduces toothache. Maybe it works on nose pain.
They are in the same body area. My only excuse.
You do not have your troubles to look for.
As another great Irish man used to say, “May your Gods to with you.”
It’s hard to describe. It’s sort of a mixture of headache, sinus pain and a drop of tooth ache. In other words – a fucking face-ache.
Dave Allen! Sorely missed….
I’ll do that from time to time then I awake one morning and say something out loud that could be construed to be blasphemy or something similar. Then I get up and start a cleaning binge. By the time it’s ended the place is cleaned. No i’m not OCD much. . Anyways I’m always quite knackered afterwards. So i take a nap. All is good then.
When I wake in the morning, the last thing on my mind is clutter. The concept of an early morning cleaning binge is way too alien for my thought processes. I usually get to the point where I am tripping over stuff before practicality steps in.