Post 520: The smell of tattoo goo is rather nice as it happens.
Rather like a winter nasal tube clearer the special goo like Vaseline in thickness and in a similar small round tin, which is being applied three times a day after washing the tat. The smell is becoming a norm around here and is doing a great job of sealing and healing the new tattoo.
The goo is another postal delivery from our favourite parcel delivery service that has monopolised our lives in the last 10 or so years and continues to be the leader in this service. With the up and coming baby birth (at the end of November) the parcels of cute and practical baby stuff is piling up around the house. It’s a job to see how these necessary purchases are going to ease off now, I think they’re here to stay.
I had a super duper morning with another 50 blogs printed and organised in the 8th folder (350-399) and am looking forward to another delivery of folders so I can continue the blog copies.
As an aside, the new printer cartridge I put in yesterday has done vastly more pages than I was expecting. The details on the sales report doesn’t mention the extra pages the black can do so I’m not sure if it’s me with my rose tinted glasses or a fluke. Either way I’m pleased.
I sat and nursed my back after taking a gulp of oramorph to dull the aches while I had a spot of lunch and folded a few texts including a couple from my Darling. She was wondering if we could take a ride into the county town below and have a walk around after depositing the 36 pint bottled in three heavy plastic crates and buying half a dozen full ones called ‘old’ - my favourite winter beer. We did all that and more because we bought more freshly ground decaf coffee for my cafeteria, then after depositing and buying beer we found ourselves in the afternoon sunshine inside the taproom where everyone and their dogs were enjoying the sunshine and the beers and spirits. We sat in a nook where the suns rays were stretching across the ancient floorboards towards us through the open doors. What a lovely and very warm day indeed.we passed a pleasant hour partaking of a drink or two before heading home for a fish supper.
The only issue that cropped up in that nook was a little matter of a tattoo. Apparently I’m in the doghouse due to booking another tat (in two weeks) for pin-man (as I’m calling it) and my poor Darling is having a time trying to live with the fact that I did it all without mentioning it to her at all.
This was the answer to a hostility that I felt since Friday but didn’t understand why.
In fact I’m now rather confused because the more I think about it the more confused I’m getting. In fact it’s not so much confusion as it is upset…
Here we go.
I held it together until after we had supper etc and were chilling whilst watching “Forever home” (channel 5) when it was mentioned again and I was under the impression that organising a second tat without her knowing or having a chat about was underhand and not in the best of spirits under the circumstances that we were thinking that the next tat would be a together tattoo, maybe a romantic Disney pairing. But that is still to be decided.
But soon afterwards my Darling was fast asleep on the sofa and I sent her packing upstairs to bed for an early night obviously, without any resolution to the tattoo issue.
And this is where my emotions got the better of me in a big way helped (or hindered) by a film called “Otto” I really shouldn’t have looked at.
I had seen some of the film before and if you know the film you know the storyline.
I was alone with my biscuits and Haribo’s when I was struck dumb with emotion.
Tears replaced treats.
Tissues replaced serviettes.
All alone I cried my little heart out, partly to do with the storyline of the film but mostly my underlying emotional state lately and the unexpectedness of the surprise and slight disgust about my new booking for a new tattoo.
My poor face was wet and my eyes red and I was glad of the remotes stop-button to get rid of the film and quieten the house. I soon struggled up the stairs to bed where it took ages to calm down and dry my eyes.
————
I can’t sleep (I’ve lost my Sheep)
Can you see the pain I’m in
With make up covering up my sins
But not enough to calm inside
Where all my personalties hide
Nothing stops the water burning
My face runs with red, alarming
I’m too tired and need some sleep
I’ve lost my sheep like little Bo Peep
Take care & sleep if you can.
