annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Busy and grumpy

It's been bloody mental, honestly. Lots of rushing about, lots of panic about money - I'm going to the dentist tomorrow and I think she said this appointment would be more fucking about getting everything just so, which is fine, I don't have to pay till the end, but if the new plate is there and I have to pay, I'm right in the shit, because my overdraft won't stretch that far till next week when I get my pension. Or the week after - it's the 15th. I think it'll be all right - I can't believe I didn't listen to her, the dentist I mean, but she goes on and on about teeth and I want to say, "Shut up, I don't care, just do what you're going to do and tell me what I have to do, but don't expect me to floss and fuck about twice a day, because I'm done, I'm really done!" I shouldn't be so nasty - she's a lovely woman determined to give me a perfectly fitted set of teeth and putting loads of work in, but she doesn't 'get' mental ill health at all. She gave me some fixative to attach the teeth to my mouth and I couldn't bring myself to use it because the thought of getting food underneath the plate while I was out and then having to fight it off my skin in the ladies, so I could rinse it under the tap, with people coming and going just made me cry to even think of - I'm getting upset just writing it. I couldn't stick glue all round the edge to stop food getting in and I could not bear leaving bits of stuff there till I got home. This tries her patience, I can tell.

I've made a thing to display the sea glass stuff on, which I'm taking to the acupuncture clinic tomorrow - it's black fabric round the big bit of foam I used to use for needle-felting - this isn't it finished,  just an impression

Haven't yet worked out what to do with the cord, which doesn't lie flat, or the numbers, and too tired now so will do it in the morning. Or not. I have to write a bit of blurb about myself to go with it and do you know, I'm going to describe myself as 'local artist', hell yeah. I might try and come up with something wanky because it does make a difference. I did a fairly crap painting for the Open House, of a view down a side street to the sea, with a yacht going past and called it 'All I want is a tall ship...' and I could have sold it six times over, all down to the title, I'm sure.

And I finished my skirt though there's no mirror in the recovery centre so it wasn't till I was pushing ED past Marks and Spencer's window that I could see it was too long. I may or may not shorten it: 

Things that have made me say,  "This is the last straw!" this week:

• I bought a new purse, having lived with a stupid child's purse for two years or more since I lost the last one. The next day both the fasteners fell off the zip on my bag, so I can't use it, and the other bag is too small to get the purse in.


• A light has come on on the dashboard of my car and


• I can't find the handbook to work out what it means and how to make it go off. It looks like it's about the airbag so I don't need to stop driving, but it's flashing red in front of my eyes, quite disconcerting


• Fucking wheelchair services came to make the changes to ED's chair, again with no notice. They put a much higher handle on the back for me to push without straining my back, as I'm quite tall, which is good, but it's a different shape so when we went out today, into a fierce wind, my hands seized up at having to work hard for a sustained period in an unfamiliar position and they still hurt and keep hitting the wrong keys on the keyboard.


• I've lost my metal water bottle - this is a real pisser as it was expensive and I get very thirsty marching about like I do but I don't want to be buying plastic water bottles - I'm a beach cleaner - no can do. But how long before I have to accept that it's gone gone? It may turn up - there are many piles it could be lurking beneath and I have no idea when I last used it.


• Some bastards are coming to assess ED for funding purposes. They probably aren't bastards - he seemed pleasant enough on the phone but the phrase "whether or not this is the most appropriate place for her" has been ringing in my ears since our chat. Thursday, they're coming.


• For three consecutive days I forgot to put my pedometer on. What's that about? Yes, I'm tired, but staying indoors and not walking is not an option. I need open air and wind.


• So far we have found eleven dead mice


• It gets dark too early now. This was taken at 16.45, for fuck's sake:


• 


• A really annoying woman at the art group this morning, where I finished my skirt, then covered the foam in black fabric. She asked me where I was going to sell the jewelry and I told her, at the clinic. She kept on and on and on suggesting other places I could sell it, like this was a crap place, which it isn't - it has a lot of people through, many of them with plenty of money and it's a bit old hippyish - or like I didn't have anywhere, or had loads of stuff to sell, none of which is true which she'd have known if she ever shut up long enough to listen.

This has made me laugh on the internet this week: "First they came for Katie Hopkins and I did not speak out because I'd been waiting ages for them to come for Katie Hopkins. Then they came for Piers Morgan and I said, "He's over there, mate, behind the sofa."

Brilliant.

I am grateful for: The art teacher at the centre who is skilled across so many areas and endlessly kind and patient even when I'm grumpy; having a warm dog sleeping on my feet; friends both Real Life and online and some who cross over; going to singing today and one of the women giving me a massive box of beautiful postcards for my writing groups; Bloke being too apathetic to mind that much about the godawful mess I've made all over the house with all the 'stuff' that my various projects accrue.

Night night, sleep tight. Fingers crossed for the elections over there.

12:25 a.m. - 07.11.18

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