annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Five, took forever to write, but a moment to read

  1. It's still pretty mega-crap-tastic. but not writing makes it worse not better. It seems as though many of us are going through similar times - does that make it better or worse?

  2. When I swim in the sea I take my glasses off and my pedometer and have to fight an overwhelming urge to take my false teeth out as well.

  3. This from 2006, twelve fucking years ago: "We [me and Younger Daughter] found Son here when we got back [from a walk with other people and their  fighting small children], wanting a critique of an essay he's done to send to FirstRate University as part of his application, but before I knew it we were in the midst of a blazing row about how awful it is living in a house with a dysfunctional couple such as me and Bloke. So now I've had enough of all children, even those who are no longer children, they can all FUCK OFF. They're right though. Things are shite. Not in your face fighting all the time, but worse perhaps, dreary, weary, beyond all that. I should call it a day, I know that really, but I can't seem to manage it. I'm sure it's the real source of my endless tiredness, living like this. Usually I'm pretty good at putting my faith into my actions and believing that things will fall into place, but I can't quite manage to walk out of the first and only warm, dry, comfortable home I've had in my adult life, at the age of 51, with no proper job (my contract's only till the end of March). He's not a bad man, that's the other thing. I feel as if I should be able to make myself happy with a kind man who loves me to death - what alternatives am I really looking at? It's not that I don't think I'll get another bloke - I don't want one - it's more that I'll only be able to afford a bedsit or a teeny tiny flat in a shitty place, with no room for my fucking hateful children, and I need to know that I can offer them a home on at least a temporary basis if needs be. So that's why I'm a miserable cow most of the time. I'm trying to get myself back into appreciating his good qualities and the thirty years of shared history, but it's not going well so far. And I feel it should."   And it didn't and I chucked him out and sold the house, soon after this and now we're living together again and it's the same, awful in a dreary, depressing, joyless way and I stay only for reasons of housing, again, and I can't see a way out, again. Even less now - I'm 64 and have no job at all.

  4. I feel that other stuff must have happened but it has drifted out of my mind...

  5. But we are getting a wheelchair van for Elder Daughter, quite soon, I think. Just when they've finished putting a boardwalk all along the beach where we used to live, down the road a bit. I'm still waiting to hear if they'll let me have it as my car too or if I have to have another one for journeys that don't involve ED.

There are other good things but I can't think of them right now. I am grateful for: getting a van for the girl, that's brilliant; a sea to swim in; an old blog to read and revisit; being asked to paint a beach hut picture for a leaving card at Tuesday art; bed, now

Laters, peeps xx


12:45 a.m. - 01.08.18


previous - next

latest entry

about me





random entry

Jan 21st - 22.01.20
Jan 20th - 20.01.20
Jan19th - 20.01.20
Jan 18th - 19.01.20
Jan 16th - 17.01.20

other diaries:


Site Meter