annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Smokin'

Well, here we are again, back to normal with the old knot of anxiety again. Ach, and it's all such tedious stuff, I don't even want to write about it. Statins - to continue or not. Do not discuss. I've had it with people discussing the benefit vs the danger of either taking or not taking the fucking things, especially when they've all got medical degrees from here to next Christmas, so I've decided to stop taking them, because... oh, I can't remember - because I don't feel confident to take them any more, I guess, and because now there's evidence which suggests high cholesterol may actually be a good thing for women, and when they keep changing their minds, we know that actually they don't know. Knowledge is not complete, it's a work in progress. Science depends on people thinking up the right questions to ask, amongst other things. The media have no qualms about drawing dodgy conclusions and presenting them as hard facts and it's all too fucking hard.

So bollocks to that.

In other news... No, there is no other news, just wittering on for a bit before I go to bed. My legs hurt a lot when I walked back to my car after yoga so I bought a book to help me focus: 'Stopping Smoking with CBT'. I'm miles away from seeing it as anything other than just another hassle, more aggro, that I don't need right now, thank you very much, when I know I can look at it as setting myself free from a pointless addiction that gives me nothing except a chesty cough and dodgy legs.

Though it also gives me a way of walking away from Bloke when he makes me want to punch him. We chat sometimes, about how we're going to have the kitchen, or whatever room, when we get round to doing it up, and man, we have such totally different taste. I like a bit of clutter, things out on shelves where you can just reach for them. He doesn't. I can't be arsed to get into it right now - we're months if not years away from doing the fucking kitchen, so I roll a fag and go out and sit in my incense-scented shed, amongst the garden tools and camping gear, and think Calming Thoughts and give up wishing everything didn't have to be such a fucking mission. Because it is what it is, and so on. Or so it goes.

Anyway, I have had good results with CBT, so I'm going to give this a shot.

I hate halloween. Quite enough death, thanks. No need for skulls and skeletons everywhere you look and I don't get behind the sudden embracing of the American tradition of sending kids out to knock on strangers doors to get shit-loads of unhealthy sugary crap. Not against sweets per se, but in those quatities? Go away.


Grateful for: yoga, if hard; stop smoking book; toothpicks; singing back on Weds, hurrah; remembering i have a bit of chocolate downstairs

Laters, dear plas. Hope times are good where you are xxx

12:42 a.m. - 20.10.15

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