Iello

I am so easily distracted, working from home is quite tough from that point of view.

I have applied for some jobs as receptionist in the hospital nearby, I know I’d make a good one. Of course I’d rather stay at home with my animals. But we need money.

There are so many people and situations I wish I could expand on, take forward, but since I’ve had children I have seen those possibilities are greatly reduced, to the point where now, with a husband and kids, that is really all I have to give. But the regret is huge. There is so much I’d like to talk about, in such depth, that I don’t get to talk about here or with the few friends I see.

I have learnt some new things. On one hand, the dawning that I do come across as patronising when really really what I meant to do is help. I get it now, and try to avoid it. So, if we combine that my interests and passions are not the same as anybody I see on a regular basis (I see very very very few people), and my terror at saying anything that will be considered uninteresting, incorrect, naive, offensive or just foolish, and my fear of causing offence through being patronising, I am talking less and less.

Which is what I always wished for myself to do, as talking doesn’t lead to understanding as it wish it would, quite the contrary. I am getting as close as possible to my secret dark dream (the tongueless woman in The World According to Garp) without, fortunately, having to actually cut it off or resort to throat cancer or some other horror.

There, I guess life arranges itself around your desires after all, though perhaps not always quite as you’d wished.
Careful what you wish for lest it come true.

First day of return to normality (all guests and visiting eldest son gone, husband in work, younger son asleep and daughter in school, only surrounded by radio and assorted black four-legged creatures sleeping near me), not a bad start.

Went to see doctor, heart often in pain, no longer associated (not that I can fathom anyway) with panic or anxiety, it just is. It is made better by Propranolol, so I’m taking that a little more often than before. Top back often in pain, more sharply when I feel psychologically or emotionally wounded. It is increasing in frequency. With greater awareness comes more frequent wounding (because fighting back is no longer an option as it has lost its meaning), and with that comes more frequent pain. Hypermobility playing up means knee and elbow hurting more.
Will start walking daughter to school now, we’ll see, may be good for knees? Certainly will do good to weight management, hopefully that is. Language gets distorted and decreases its ability. I don’t actually mind, somehow. GP booked blood test to check for thyroid function and also a 24-hour ECG – I think it’s called. Wires attached for 24 hours, like my husband has done so many times for his heart. That should be fun. Never had one before.
Back to work on dad’s novel. Loving it. Not good to be so raw, though, that is a nuisance, but it can’t changed. Just shelter myself for as long as I can, we’ll deal with the outside world when we get to it.
Phil Collins as an endnote, not bad 🙂 Won’t post link as it would take too long to load the page.
On the bright side, my transfer to BT might bear fruits soon, where fruits are a better blooming internet connection, one of the main reasons for finding it so difficult to keep up with other blogs (as well as of course a sense of self-preservation and general chickenry).

I am collecting beer caps due to a need to have small colurful things and not having access to a beach or charity chops or money, that will soon end as the beers have finished and we’re not going to buy anymore any time soon.

In order to use an Italian keyboard, I’ve had to tell Windows 10 that I need to type in Italian, now a lot of the interface is in Italian. I am irrationally very mad about that.

Oh and I love my new apron, thanks to my sister’s Amazon voucher.

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P.S. And no, I don’t use it for cooking, I’m not the cook around here. I use it to wash the dishes, so I don’t stand in an awkward position to avoid getting wet.

 

 

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