Rolling rocks

Clearly this is going to be a difficult week. It's only Monday (well, for another 15 minutes) and it already feels as though the days have been dragging on endlessly, running into each other like headless chickens on a windy day*.

I spent much of the weekend weeping and swearing, the aftermath of a trying day on Friday, related to the recent SSFH** stuff. Things are slowly being resolved but boy is it hard to deal with while it all happens. And, of course, with Mr WithaY away and unreachable on his luxury dive boat*** in the Red Sea, it's all felt far harder than I expected it to.

So. How am I dealing with all this, you ask? I managed to get through to the doctor's surgery on the phone eventually this afternoon and made an appointment. A week on Friday. I couldn't bring myself to lie and say I was an emergency, but having to wait 10 days to see the doctor is pretty poor I think.

Anyhoo, I am going to ask him to refer me to a psychiatrist/counsellor again. It helped the last time I went bonkers, so hopefully it will help get me through this particular episode of stress and horror. I have hardly slept since Thursday last week, so I decided not to go into London today, as originally planned.

Instead, I had a long and embarrassingly tearful telephone conversation with my colleague (who is an absolute star), then went through my email with the laptop, and then went off for a restorative cup of tea and sandwich at lunchtime. I came back to a message telling my that my password had expired and I need to login to a different machine to set a new one. Fucking great. So I need to try and call the system administrator tomorrow and ask them to sort it out remotely for me.

But their phone number is on the computer. Which I can't login to. But I need to login to get the number to call the help desk to tell them I can't login.

There's a hole in my bucket.

Actually no. I feel like that bloke who had to roll the giant rock up the mountain every day, then watch it roll back to the bottom every night. Who was that? Except my particular rock at the moment is made of cat shit and broken glass****.






*I know it doesn't make much sense but it's a great image.
**Shit Storm From Hades.
***It has a hot tub. In my book that equates to luxury.
****Worst combination ever.

Disjointed

So, long time no see.  To be honest, it's all been a bit too stressful and depressing here, so I haven't felt much like writing anything.

I'm cold. And tired. And grumpy. And a bit sad because Mr WithaY has headed off to live on a boat in the Red Sea for a week, for more shark-tagging high jinks.  He's back at the end of next week and I am really looking forward to it.  The house feels too big.  And the cold I had last week that seemed to fizzle out has fizzled back in, so I am snotty as well.  Nice. 

Anyway.  It occurred to me the other day that the funky visitor counter that I was all excited about is merely recording the number of times this blog is accessed from that particular country. So arse. I might only have 4 readers in the UK, but they check back often.

Thanks to the lovely people who responded to tell me where they at, though. The Canadians, especially. Aren't you all polite?

Today I have mostly been cleaning up, as Kevin the Decorator has finished.  The hall, landing and stairs look lovely.  The walls and celing are pale cream  (yes, alright, magnolia) and the woodwork and doors are all white.  The loft hatch, which has been a grubby stripped wood eyesore for 8 years is now a thing of beauty.  I put the pictures back up yesterday, and that was nice.  Moving them all round a bit means you look at them as you go up and down the stairs, they look different somehow.  Trouble with all the decorating is that everything in the house is dusted with very fine, well, dust. 

And, talk of the devil, he just came to drop off the house key and his invoice.  Money well spent I think.

I'm off to see Father-in-Law WithaY, who will be fretting about shark attacks. It's a rock and roll lifestyle I lead here.

Fish

It's snowing again! Blimey. Drove home this afternoon from bestest mate's house through some amazing special effects wrath of God hail and rain, and now it's snowing.


Saw my lovely Mum a couple of times over the weekend, she seems to be making good progress and was in much improved spirits, which was great to see. The care she has been getting is (mostly) excellent, the less than excellent stuff has been duly reported and dealt with by the rest of the hospital staff.

Went out for dinner on Saturday night with bestest mate after calling in at the hospital and had a HUGE bowl of Pasta With Stuff at Prezzo's. Was very nice, but far too much, so had to leave quite a lot, which I hate doing. Which is why I have such a fat arse, of course.

Saw Middle Sis and Youngest Sis, and resepctive families, which was nice too. Everyone was feeling much happier, as things are improving so much. Youngest Sis's little dog was very entertaining too, frolicking about and being an idiot.

Mr WithaY is still away, having decided not to come home for the weekend, as it would be a ridiculously long round trip. I think he is home on Friday next week. No idea, though, what time. And given my track record, it might well be that he gets home on Saturday, or Thursday night, or a week on Wednesday. So I am feeling a bit lonely and sad.

He managed to ring me one night last week to tell me how it was all going. Apart from having to get into a river, which was "bloody freezing" and falling off a log, or down a hole, out of a tree or something, and bruising himself considerably, it's going terribly well, apparently. So that's good to know.

Had a bit of a hissy fit earler when I went to cook some supper and couldn't light the oven. Cursed and swore, then remembered Middle Sis telling me that her new cooker (v similar to mine) had the same problem until the clock on it was set correctly. Ahahahahahaaaaaaaaa. We had a power cut the other night, didn't we? And I hadn't set the oven clock since that happened. So, I pressed buttons on the cooker at random till the clock numbers changed, then managed to light it. Hurrah.

Half an hour later, hot fish galore. Mmmmmmmmm.

And, assuming we don't get a foot of snow overnight, up to London tomorrow for another week of big city frolicks.

Home alone

My back still hurts. But it is not as bad as it was, and I am planning a hot bath shortly to make it feel even better.

Mr WithaY has sloped off to the wilds of west Wales for a fortnight, where there is no mobile reception. Pah. He did give me the name of the place he's staying at, so I can call in case of emergency, though. The house feels very big and empty. I'd better put the telly on loud.

Otherwise, things are quiet, which after the last couple of weeks is no bad thing.