Hello peeps,
I'm sitting here watching my washing machine spin round and round, and thinking that my life is rather similar at the moment.
A month ago Steve went into hospital for a routine Angiogram and came out a week later after having had a stroke caused by the procedure.
He is in relatively good nick, all things considered, but his speech is slurry, and he gets tired very easily. Occasionally he gets dizzy and nauseous, and he doesn't travel well anymore. Not too bad when you think how severe it could have been.
So he's at home.
And our landlady is coming home soon, too, so we have to move out.
This will be my 27th house move and I can't say I'm looking forward to it much.
I have been trying to keep up with my Uni work whilst looking after Steve and all his visitors, and house-hunting at the same time. Feel close to tears most of the time but can't seem to break out and have a good howl.
Had to do a PowerPoint presentation on screen printing today, and to say it was a rush job is an understatement of epic proportions, as I was up till 1.30 last night fiddling with bits of graph paper, trying to see if our furniture would fit into the house we like.
My head is not in the game.
My head is a foggy, achy, snappy, wobbly place out of which good PowerPoint presentations, imaginative poems, or succinct and witty prose are not forthcoming.
My house is a tip, like my head, and I just don't give a shit.
Last night I had one of those rotten 'worry-dreams' so I woke up badly too. You know the sort - you're late for something, the car breaks down, you're stranded somewhere and nobody helps you. Last night's one featured my sister-in-law offering to drive me but then stopping off for a coffee that took forever. The more insistent I got that we didn't have enough time, the more upset and offended she got. (She's not like that, really).
In the end I had to travel back through time, in order to warn her that we would have a major falling out and she would just have to forgive me. Just for a bloody ten-minute Power point presentation!
I'm too tired to shop or cook most of the time so I'm living off bread and peanut butter.
Stomach has ballooned! Can't fit my sodding clothes.
And my guinea pig, Sandra, is ill.
So that's my week, folks, and now I have to write a monologue for my new script-writing tutor.
At any other time I would find that a stimulating and interesting challenge. Today I just want to unscrew my throbbing head and drop it in the dish-washer.
Ah well. Back to the writing board.
