Sunday, 27 January 2008

My Life Begins Now?

I'm 40.

I went down to London to say hello to the family and was bowled over.

The two brothers, had, between them, got me a laptop, a printer and a digital camera.

I wasn't expecting anything like this at all.

I met the Cute Niece and Nephew, had a couple of slices of pizza, helped Younger Married Brother try and wash and de-flea the geriatric pet cat and tried to help Dad with some of his paperwork.

We really are fighting a losing battle with him. Ever since Dad was beaten up, his physical health and his mental state has deteriorated scarily fast. Foul mouthed, obnoxious and refusing any and all offers of help, he is now almost completely incapable of work. He's 65 and should be retired, but he took on one last big job before he was attacked and insisted on carrying on with it after he lost his sense of balance and the sight in one eye.

The house has to be virtually rebuilt from the pavement up and Married Brother with Kids and one of Dad's mates are doing the majority of the work now. With his own business, a demanding wife and two demanding children, MwK is extremely stressed.

Dad has been "helping" and making things worse. He has had to be taken to hospital after he knocked a hole in a supporting wall to put a door in and ended up buried in rubble after he wasn't able to put the lintel in quickly enough and the decrepit wall fell in. He was released the same day with a Zimmer frame and now crutches.

Every time the doctors have given him some apparently good advice, he has argued with them and apparently they know nothing and he knows more than they do. Who would have thunk it?

His legs, already weak with sciatica are now failing him almost completely, he needs one crutch just to help him walk a relatively straight line and he is barely capable of walking to the bus stop to go shopping.

His GP, who I had a very stressful time getting to accept Dad as a patient, is routinely slagged off as an ignorant know nothing after he believed the hospital consultant's diagnosis of alcoholic cerebellar ataxia over Dad's assertion that the attack which left him blinded also left him forgetful, with a very poor short term memory, half deaf, unable to balance or walk well, with constant back and leg pain, deteriorating dexterity, easily disoriented, depressed (okay, yeah) and with worsening eye sight.

I got the full run down from Dad and MwK and tried to get Dad to promise that he'd accept medical advice but I think my efforts literally fell on deaf ears.

I got everything boxed and bagged up and was driven to Victoria Coach Station by YMB. When I got to Wolverhampton I called a taxi and waited in the freezing night air with a large box in a bin bag and a shopping bag containing a laptop, a digital camera (with a spare battery) and a cake.

When I got home I just left it all in a pile and went to bed.

It's all been too much for one week, let alone for one day.

Saturday, 26 January 2008

WTF?

This is being regularly played on Radio 1. It sounds vaguely Eurovision, the words are almost incomprehensible although the beat is fairly hypnotic.

David Jordan


Sunday, 20 January 2008

New Year's Resolutions .... and all that

Okay. It's been a pretty grim Christmas.

I finished my night job on the morning of Saturday 21st December. I was wanted at the day job for Christmas Eve and the day after Boxing Day. So I went down to London Christmas Eve evening and trundled back up on Boxing Day.

Even at this stage in the game, I'm still awake at 2am. I'm still on night shift mode. It's like being jet lagged.

Resolutions.

The obvious one first.

1. GET A JOB. That is my number one priority. Temping has been fun but I need a job which pays at least £16k pa to keep the roof over my head. I can't keep up the work schedule that I had before Christmas and I can't rely on handouts from my family.

Another obvious one

2. LOSE WEIGHT. I am the better part of 13 stones (185lb) and I should be around the 7 stone mark (98lb). Six stones to lose. Jesus.

The Office Manager has been on the Cambridge Diet for some while now. This consists of three shakes a day (water not milk) and nothing else. Shes's allowed all the water and black coffee and tea she wants but three shakes a day is it as far as nutrition goes. She is still large (slightly larger than me) but she has lost a massive 8 stones (112lb). I'm so jealous. I wonder if it's worth talking it over with the GP?

And an embarrassing one. I've got to sort out the hoarding thing.

3. STOP BUYING STUFF I DON'T NEED.

An inventory of the bathroom cupboard was shameful.

Facial toner a a a a a

Anti perspirant a a a

Shower gel a a a a a a a a a

Moisturiser:

Body a a a a a a a a

Body -Self Tanning a

Facial - Night a a a a

Facial - Day a a a a a a a

Facial - Tinted a a

Facial - Self Tanning a a

Eye a a a

Facial Night Serum a a

Facial Day Serum a

Spot/Blemish Lotion a a a

Hand Wash a a a

Hand Cream a a a a

Toothpaste a a a

Mouthwash - Non Alcoholic a a

Toothbrushes a a a

Perfume a a a

Body Spray a a a a a a

Shampoo a a

Conditioner a a a a

Face Wash a a a

Complexion Enhancer (I don't routinely wear make-up) a a a

Mascara (I don't routinely wear make-up) a a a

Hair Styling Products a a a a a a a a

Face Masks (tubes and single use sachets) a a a a

Shaving Gel a

Sensitive Wash (for those sensitive little places) a

That's unused and for my own personal use.

That also doesn't take into account all the stuff boxed up as birthday and Christmas gifts for the coming year.

And that's after I gave a load of stuff to charity.

Even taking into account the fact that there are travel/gift/sample sizes on this tragic list, that's a Hell of a lot of shower gel and moisturiser.

And that's just the bathroom.

The bedroom yielded:

A collection of jeans and T-shirts that I no longer wear because I've been working in offices not laboratories

Two carrier bag loads of shoes that are now unwearable because of this plantar fasciitis thing (including all my beloved flattie pumps)

A variety of clothes that I was just kidding myself I'd wear :

I'd lose weight and fit into them - yeah sure

Skirts are pretty and classier - but pretty impractical and I just don't feel comfortable wearing them

They looked nice - but need ironing or dry cleaning or handwashing

And the What Was I Thinking? category included

A pair of red loafers (I mean bright red) that matched nothing else in my wardrobe

An orange blouse (what? My ideal job was at EasyJet?)

A purple fitted blouse that rode up at the front and exposed my midriff (I'm 13 stone - that's not pretty)

and a small hoard of hair grips, clips and accessories that were a hangover from my days with long hair.

When would they ever come in handy?

Since Christmas, I've been dedicating the evenings to job application form filling, self improvement and de-cluttering.

Whoopee-do.