annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Good Day ['bout bloody time, ed.]

And, at last, tah dah! A day in which the good times clearly outweigh the bad! So relieved - honestly I was starting to think I was just a miserable, pessimisstic, bloody bitch, and that was all there was too it, but no, I spit in your face, depression. I had a good day, so fuck you.

Started badly - the usual shit with overly vivid dreams in which everything goes wrong and it's all my fault - but I was woken by a call from Bloke inviting me to breakfast up the road, which helped me talk myself round from them more quickly than of late. I've noticed how dependent on Bloke I am these days, btw. Me and him have ebbed and flowed since we were teenagers, going on forty years. It is what it is - it's never stood up to much in the way of scrutiny, yet here we are, looking out for each other still. A bit astonishing really.

Anyway, today's pic topic was 'Made you smile today' which I thought I'd better get sorted good and early, before it began to oppress me ('This happened today' and 'Emotion' both fucked me up big-time - I was used to concrete things like 'dinner' and 'feet'), so I took these:

Cute cat on wall, who yowled at me as I passed, just like Bob does:


Gladdies, just breaking into bloom:

After Bloke left I smoked the little bit of green I'd saved, put on my new mix CD, and slowly, slowly did quite a lot, including make a pot of chicken, veg and barley soup, re-rinse and hang out a load of washing, bring in two pelargoniums that might not make it through the winter outside, and tidy up the front room. I didn't manage to put the recycling out:

which, given that the bin is on the street opposite my house, is clearly becoming an issue, but never mind that.

I finished cleaning the kitchen just in time to watch 'Pointless' and got a pointless answer (Lake Maracaibo is in Venezuela, claro que si), which made me feel comfortably smug. YD and I fantasise about going on Pointless (and The Million Pound Drop) when we're well enough. You have two chances on P - you can come onto the next show if you don't win - so we'd like to come on wearing subtly silly clothes and just swap them for the next episode as we're more or less the same size. We'll behave very well until the end bit when they ask how we'd spend the money. 'Class A drugs and rent boys,' which we know they'd make us re-shoot, but we won't even apply to go on and this kind of shit does make us laugh.

Then my two darling mates turned up and it occurred to me that I had enough soup for us all, so they stayed and definitely did 'make me smile today' so I used this as my pic of the day:

though I snapped pud (a Snickers between three - new mantra: 'We have more than enough dessert') in case the one of them didn't look good:

but I just love that photo of them, and that it came out just right. We are all frail as fuck, but give each other space to be less than perfect/agreeable/appropriate, which none of us abuse too often. We have a right laugh together and - well - unconditional love. It's only writing it down here that's made me articulate it, even to myself. Not quite that simple, of course - they're a couple and have their own shit - but between me and each of them that's how it is. Unconditional love, man. No wonder it's been a good day.

And since then I've said I'll submit a guest blog on how blogging about my mental health has enriched my life, to, though I don't know if I will. I'm a bit paranoid about my discretion with other people's business, especially my kids. No, that's bollocks, I'm going to do it, of course I am.

Jeez, it's gone 2 am, and I'm not going to sleep until I've read another chunk of my book - Wally Lamb "I Know This Much is True" - so I shall fuck off right now.

I am grateful for: Him and Her and Her and Them and You

Sleep tight xx

12:20 a.m. - 19.10.12


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