Post 364: Not much happened.
Being able to laze about in bed all day and get up for dinner is the domain of the very tired retired.
My thoughts about getting back to work in a month for a couple of hours a day are twin-bladed: my mental health will be uplifted into something which is more normal, but there’s a worry I’ll be too tired to get up and go.
I’ve a meeting in May at work that ought to set the parameters for a schedule of two hours a day, three days a week.
If I feel too tired or sick to work, how do I change my status to sick — because I’m already technically sick?
It’s my mind trying to figure out every detail of a complicated arrangement.
Let’s park that.
So I got up this afternoon when my Darling arrived back home from the cafe, for MAFSAU and, boy, what a messed-up bunch of people they are.
I’ll say only this: the concept of getting married the moment you meet your other half is fraught with danger, and most struggle to get past friendship to intimacy (of any kind). And remembering this is a show in real life, the rules regarding safeguarding must be horrendous to create so that no one gets hurt.
The viewer is in on this car-crash wedding show and it’s hard to focus on the fact that these are actually real people with such variable characters pushed on each other in the name of love (and entertainment).
Which is most prevalent — love or entertainment?
In this series I just can’t tell. But boy, is it a distraction from the reality in my world today.
I feel knackered, as I’ve already said, and I’ve been successful in not being a cry baby today. I’m still waiting for the Anima sick note I need for work, which is unexpectedly hard to come by. How hard can it be for a GP to give me the official recognition I need for the red tape I’m forced to be part of? It’s been two days already.
Monday I will rock their world with yet more unnecessary chasing to get something so simple, in my case.
Also Monday, I’ll get the mattress between 11:05 and 13:05 — yippee.
This should be the best thing for my sleeping habits, which of late are not the best.
I’m struggling with pins and needles a lot lately in my hands while in bed writing on my phone, or sitting in the lounge TV chair, which is otherwise very comfy.
It seems to be stemming from my elbows and is painful, as much as tough on my fingers.
On Monday afternoon, after the mattress is delivered, I’ll write an email to my specialist cancer nurse to keep her updated. By then I’ll have had a few more days on the extra 10mg of slow-release morphine twice a day.
I certainly can’t tell if it’s making me tired, but I already feel less pain, which is fantastic.
I’m not suffering any bad or good dreams, so I’m very happy.
There’s no forward movement on our next holiday in England, but I’m happy to text and get photos sent back from Big Sis from their short stay in south-west Wales — at their friend’s home, spending time on sandy beaches with their hosts’ with their two dogs and otherwise visiting castles. Lovely jubbly.
I haven’t heard about the food yet, but I’m sure there were fish and chips last night. Surely.
So that’s why I didn’t get to see Big Sis today — because she’s away in Wales for a mini break.
Back at home. Our evening was cut short because my Darling has to be up at 03:40, so her sleep is essential. She gets home at 3pm-ish and goes up for a pick-her-up afternoon nap.
Will I get to pull some weeds up tomorrow ?
I’ve made contact with a local gardener for weed control. There’s a likelihood he’ll help — but when?
So I’ll see if my muscles will let me.
So for now, nothing much happened.
I suppose that’s good in itself.
Good night and take care
