annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Five Things

  1. I've walked 122.4 miles since I started doing it properly again on Oct 13th. Like to London and back, which doesn't actually sound far, but it reassures me that I could have walked 1000 miles this year if life had given me half a chance and I will do it again next year. I can feel that I'm getting a bit obsessive about it, but that's OK. I don't know how to do this grief thing other than by distracting myself as much as possible, keeping busy, that kind of thing. I'm British, what am I supposed to do? Several people have told me they think I'm "doing brilliantly" by which they mean not making a fuss. So, distracting myself  feels inevitable and not too bad - I could be in the pub night and day or any one of a number of far worse things than walking like a madwoman, up and down, the hills, across the beach, chasing the sunset.

  2. Confession. Bloke has some kind of prostate cancer, I think the one you die with not die of. Every time he mentions it my mind goes blah blah blah, not listening, don't care. I have no idea whether I do care really and this is a step too far for my poor frazzled psyche to even consider, or if I do have no feelings left for him at all, except annoyance and general dislike. Yesterday he had to have a biopsy under a general anesthetic and was required to be at the hospital 20 miles down the road at 7.30 am and have someone to drive him home afterwards. I couldn't do it. (That's my confession, which I feel I need to have written down for future reference). I could not even contemplate being shut in a confined space like a car with him, never mind exhibit anything approaching concern or even friendliness. I do feel ashamed, but also relieved that V took him and her husband B fetched him and I stayed out all day and had nothing to do with any of it. I can't be pretending to be better than I am. This is me. I did cook tea though, a vast cauldron of Irish stew. started on Sunday and lasting till tonight, getting more delicious with each reheating.

  3. The election campaign, holy mother of  god (sorry, that's what happens when you mention Irish stew), what a shower of cunts they are. I am beside myself over the anti-Semitism accusations being levelled at Corbyn, I don't think they're true, but maybe they are - I'm not Jewish so maybe I just don't see it, like blokes not seeing sexism. I think we should vote for him anyway, which sounds terrible till you look at the alternatives. Johnson is following Trump's lead, saying and doing whatever he feels like, without reference to truth or justice or human decency. Awful, despicable, despair-inducing.

  4. Me and the girl are going to see Hannah Gadsby on Saturday.  But

  5. The little boy I babysat for the other week, whose mother works at the care home, died. Just like that - got very poorly, was taken to hospital, transferred to intensive care and died the next day. Unbelievable and unbearable. It makes me feel shaky and sick to even think about it, but I can't stop thinking about it, about him, about her, about how fragile and uncertain our lives and our futures are. To lose your only child like that, a tiny little soul not even two years old. Man.


12:15 a.m. - 20.11.19


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