annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Day 236

Here's some Bella stuff, where I had to include the song title "Senses Working Overtime":

Bella felt mental. She'd thought the fish incident would have put an end to this thing, whatever it was, with Naomi but it hadn't - Naomi was still there, popping her smiley head out the window when Bella emerged from her basement, full of good cheer and good spirits and general bloody goodness. Honestly. And now, somehow, Bella had only invited her for a meal. Tonight. In Bella's flat. No one else had stepped over the threshold since she'd moved in and the thought of it, as the hour approached, was electrifying.
She could feel all her senses working overtime: sounds were too loud, colours were awful, she could feel the thread in the carpet through her socks and taste the dread in her mouth. It was all far too much for her to even consider cooking a meal. She'd been to Naaz, the Indian takeaway round the corner and bought a vegetable vindaloo and some Bombay potato which she'd reheat later. The sour smell of the vindaloo was making her anxious. She knew she'd chosen it to try and piss Naomi off - it would probably be too hot for her - she was little and a bit delicate and hot curries were manly, weren't they? That's what her brother-in-law, Bloody Bastard Barry had always said, though he was a dick, so who knew. Maybe it wouldn't be hot enough and Naomi would go next door and fetch her own bottle of special chili sauce...
What am I doing? Bella suddenly thought. She's OK and wants to be my friend. Why can't I just let her?

Yesterday, Wednesday, was killer. Keyboard practice, bereavement counselling, mad dash to supermarket to buy food for Daughter and Grandson who are quarantining because of his positive covid test. Back just in time for writing group, drove to Daughter's to deliver food, walked dog on beach, had a coffee, sat in mad traffic for fucking ages to get home just before 6 in time for new writing group, proper taught group on memoir. Good but exhausting.

Richard meanwhile was having terrible trouble with the kitchen tiles, which being handmade were uneven in just about every aspect, so he ended up working till gone 8, and still didn't finish. I almost nodded off on the sofa so dragged myself up to bed, fell asleep before 10 but woke at 11.30 and couldn't get back to sleep. So today I've mainly been resting, apart from checking the news every ten minutes to see if it's been declared in the US yet. Still hasn't at time of writing.

And of course it's the first day of the second lockdown though it seems exactly the same. Richard came and finished the tiling and painting the woodwork - he's a builder so can't work from home and is allowed to carry on. Bloke went and mended the IT network in the Buddhist Centre, a mend he couldn't do from home so allowed. Traffic sounded as loud as ever on the main road. M came here on her way home from her daughter's - she lives alone so is in a 'bubble' with them and is allowed to visit. We went to the meadow for a walk - exercise, permissible with one other person. The schools are open, including the one at the end of the garden, where the kids make an unholy racket on their breaks and are all mixing together before going home. I don't know what to think. How is it any different? I'm not going to see the exhibitions tomorrow with Son - the galleries are all closed so some stuff has stopped but not everyday life for many.

J, who has covid, is still very poorly. I was going to make her organic chicken and veg soup, with barley, which always makes a person feel better, but she says she feels paranoid about other people and doesn't want anything at all brought into her house. I can understand reaching that level of fear, though she already has the disease, she's not going to get more ill, but anxiety doesn't work like that. I worry for her.

Bloke is demonstrating his total inability to read another person, even one he has known since 1969, fifty fucking years. He sees getting the kitchen done as a shared project that has brought us together and is mega chatty, but I'm beyond sharing with him or wanting to. We're stuck in the same house for the moment but I don't trust him. Not in that I think he will deliberately cheat on me or do me down, but that he doesn't get it, he has no empathy for me or anyone else and he's hurt me time and time again when I've let him in and I won't do it again. We're at the time of year when he gets right on my nerves over temperature. Today's been the coldest day so far and he's in short sleeves and going on about it. If he just wore them and didn't mention it I'd believe he didn't feel the cold but he has to point it out all the fucking time, "It's not really that cold, is it? I'm still not wearing long sleeves!" ah shut up, who cares? I feel the cold more than him and don't do well in the heat either but we don't need to still be talking about that do we?

Three good things today:
1. A nice drop-in art session where I did fuck up my oil painting of Turner's Fighting Temeraire, but I can re-do it next week. One of the others who has been really struggling was dead cheerful today which was contagious and good.
2. I had a brilliant idea for a massive whiteboard that's been lurking. I'm going to make a collage of the medieval picture I love - the one with sailors thinking they've arrived on an island so light a fire, but it's really a sea monster not an island. I just googled it and there are several versions, all fab. I'm going to use that turquoise fishing net to make the sea - I find masses of that in short lengths - and small pieces of worn driftwood for the boat... I shall have to ponder what else.
3. Bloke made carbonara for dinner with spinach and mushrooms on the side which I stirred into mine and found delicious. He can't cope with that at all. Carbonara is carbonara and does not have anything else added. You can eat something else if you keep it on the side. I'm sure he's got worse with this - he used to be able to cook but now he's bound by recipes and rules. Ah well. I am grateful for the meals he cooks.

Fingers crossed people, fingers crossed. May we wake up to good news. xxx

10:19 p.m. - 05.11.20

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