annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Day 195

I've been doing this for 195 days and I still have to check every day to see what number I'm up to because my guess is usually wrong. Jesus.

I did the Friday writing group this morning, which I really enjoy. The mental health group that I started and C took over when I was unable to continue. Its future is now uncertain. A few more people want to join and C has said that 6 is the maximum that can be managed for it to be worthwhile - for us to do two bits of writing, read and discuss. He's right. Five is better - we were five today and that gives time for a quick check-in, where we say how we are, being honest as we're all mental health survivors. Today I said that I was pretty close to my edge what with the leg, the covid and the decorating, all arriving just after Sam's first anniversary. Others had different reasons for feeling flaky - one person was doing OK. The response to C saying six is the maximum he can manage is to tell us we'll all have to take it in turns, which is bollocks. They give us so little support that we've decided if they insist, they can fuck off.

He didn't tell us this till the end of the group, just as well as we all got fired up and stressed about it. The first exercise came out of one of his tricksy set-ups that get on my nerves but end up being OK when we do them. We all had to come up with a name, an entity and an action, then assign them to other people randomly and complicatedly. I was given the name Oliver Philip Nisbet III, a robot, leaving someone. I was meant to write about that but I'm not writing about fucking robots - well I am, but only like this. For the second exercise we were given a choice of sentences to complete and continue. I chose 'It had all been going so well until...' and added it on to my first piece.

"Hiya. My name's Amelie. Come in, come in and look at my robot!" Bella looked askance at the small human female who'd answered the door.

"I've come about the flat," she said, flatly.

"Mummmeeee!" the girl bellowed before continuing at a more normal volume but an incredible speed, "Look, this is my robot. He's called Oliver Phillip Nisbet III. He's the third because I've had two called Oliver Phillip Nisbet before. The first one fell down the stairs and the second one Daddy threw into the basement! Naughty Daddy! He's called Oliver because that's my favourite name in the whole world and is what I will call my first born son. Phillip is for Phillip Scofield - I love him."

She gave Bella a look which Bella knew was an invitation to ask about Nisbet, but she could fuck off.

Bella sighed. It had all been going so well until this little shit appeared. She'd got off the bus at the right stop, found the house, which seemed ideal - in the middle of a terrace, basement with its own steps down and front door, lovely, but then Mighty Mouth opened the door. Bella couldn't imagine anything much worse than living with a small child.

"Nisbet's my surname too," the girl explained patiently, as if Bella had been struggling to work it out. She set the plastic contraption down on the floor and it immediately spun round, headed past Bella and crashed down the steps. Luckily footsteps clattering along the hall heralded the arrival of Mummy, tall and groomed, drying her hands on an immaculately white tea towel.

"Good morning. You must be Bella. I'm so sorry about my daughter. Amelie, stop that awful noise. Don't be so tiresome. Nobody cares about the silly robot so just pick up those pieces and go to your room. Now." Bella's heart sank. This was parenting as she'd known it. She almost warmed to the child.

After that I went to the beach with my pal SB, and to the posh cafe where we had lunch. I had a fishcake and chips, breaking my diet and didn't care. Very good to be with an old friend in a good cafe, looking at beautiful autumn light on the waves, eating chips.

I did a yoga nidra this evening as well, but it didn't quite hit the spot - I couldn't get comfortable, couldn't forget the fucking leg brace.

Three good things: lunch with an old friend; the hall all painted white when I returned - looks great, just the woodwork to do - door frames, skirting boards etc; chips


12:38 a.m. - 26.09.20


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