annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Zaz Zuh Zaz

Oh thank god I blog and thank god for the kindness of strangers (you're not really strangers, but you know what I mean. I started the day at such a low ebb and with everything in such a big mess that it all crushed me before I'd even started. But I have people (OK, counsellors, but they are people too) in my Real Life who keep telling me to ask for help, which is really hard, but I did and it was good.

Your comments and notes buoyed me up and got me off down to the laundrette with all my dirty washing. The woman who works there said, "Hiya, how are you? Oh darling, you're not good, are you? I'm so sorry," and squeezed my arm across the counter, making me cry a bit, but in a good way.

Then it was on into town to stock up on food for me in the care home. I decided on microwave porridge (which is almost certainly a food-like substance, rather than food, but what can I do - no hob, no fridge, just a kettle and a microwave yuck), and bananas for breakfast, rice cakes and peanut butter for lunch and I'll go out for dinner while ED is being put to bed, which will give me time to gather my wits about me. I also found a few more bits and pieces for her tactile box:

which looks pretty good now, I reckon. My MS counsellor has lent me the balls (all different sizes and degrees of softness) and the stretchy strip of green stuff and I've gathered the rest myself. I just hope she still can find pleasure in holding and exploring things manually.

I needed some stamps for my post-crossing cards, which entailed standing in a queue forever and several days, but enabled me to take my photo-a-day pic "I am here"

that was the best I could do without getting people's faces in. I'd been there for over a year (at least) when I thought of counting and there were twenty-three people in front of me still. As I turned round the first bend in the queue I saw an Indian woman, who I knew I knew, but couldn't place. She looked over, saw me and grinned in recognition, so I grinned back and said, "I'm sorry, I can't remember how I know you!" We met on a bus, apparently - it must have been a long journey as she looked so familiar to me. Lakshi - the name came to me as we chatted.

So into the darkness comes a little light.

Bloke carried all my bedding and stuff to the car, which is parked miles away, so all I have to do tomorrow is pack my little suitcase, toddle along for some strengthening acupuncture, and off I'll go, to my darling, precious daughter.

I tidied up the flat to this point:

(you should have seen it before) and realised I had nothing for dinner so grabbed my kindle and headed for the chippie with the seating area:

where, instead of the usual local commercial radio, they were playing Cab Calloway, so I ate my cod and chips whilst reading the new Christos Tsiolkas and humming along to Minnie the Moocher and other songs that keep you going when times are tough

Sweet dreams, dear friends xxx

2:16 a.m. - 27.03.14


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