True story

His dad had died a few months before. Then he lost his job. There was more stuff. Then he got ill. He kept getting colds, stomach bugs, was exhausted, couldn't stand for long without having to have to go back to bed.
Eventually he went to see his GP.
After a few minutes conversation, describing the symptoms, the doctor looked at him and said "I think you're depressed."
He looked at the doctor and in all seriousness, said "Well wouldn't you be if you were as ill as I am??"

The doctor laughed uncontrollably for 5 minutes before he managed to get himself together enough to say "No, the illness is depression!"
Even he laughed at that!

True story, a friend of mine.

Stuff has happened that I'm pretty angry about.
There has been a suicide in the family.
There has been some rotten work stuff.
There has been stuff with LBJ that has made me angry with the world.

I need some space to think.

A week off wasted.
Massive agoraphobic attack in town has left me confined to the bedroom and hungry as I fled before food shopping.

Maybe better later.

Stop it... please just stop it.

The neighbour is doing DIY.
He started hammering at 7pm, and is still going on. He will be going on until about midnight.
Its a regular occurrence, but I really, really don't need it tonight.

Things that have amused me this week.

Telling the Jehovah's Witness that came to the door that I don't agree with his churches policy of murdering children by denying them basic medical care and that he was a sick and twisted little man.
Telling the Mormon that came to the door he was no better than a Jehovah's Witness, and that I was getting a bit sick of these child abusers in the guise of religious maniacs coming to the door.
Telling the Conservative candidate that I was registered to vote in the city and that I would rather pull out my own eyes than vote for his selfish, hate filled, racist, destructive party... Especially as I'm not registered to vote there.

Serves all of them right for ruining my dinner on three successive evenings.

Whats that sound?

Well, there have been a few days of extreme fatigue and tiredness and falling asleep standing up while working. Mostly due to lack of sleep, trying to adjust from nights to days - stuff like that.

Weird/gross moment of the week... month... year... Well it better be - I don't want to have a grosser moment, lets put it that way.

I was feeling tired and a little sick. My diet and digestion have been suffering from the time swings... and I needed the loo. I got into the stall and sat quietly. I have a problem with public toilets, I find them very difficult to use and prefer not to unless I really have to, all due to an incident in childhood where an old man all but climbed over the cubicle partition as I used the toilet. But I manage and try not to let it affect me too much.
Anyway... I'm sat there trying to mind my own... errr... business... and I hear someone go into the stall next to me. Eeek. I don't like this so I'm now being very quiet and trying to make as little noise as possible. I'm also trying hard not to listen to my new neighbour. But something is worming its way into my consciousness. There's a noise. A human made noise. What on earth...? Well its not a body function... it's kind of rhythmic... definitely biological... what is going on?

Oh... Oh no... surely not?

Yup, its the only possible explanation.
He's knocking one out, flicking one off the wrist... He's having a wank. At 11am. In work. With someone (more importantly ME!) in the cubicle next door - less than a metre away.

Thankfully, as this dawns on me, I am finished and manage to get out, wash my hands and leave before the Phantom Yanker emerges from his Fortress of Solitude.
I am happy for people to do what they want in private... But ah, come on! On second thoughts... Don't come on!

Eww.

I wrote a long post.
I wasn't worth the effort.

A problem with a long series of night shifts is when you are able to sneak off early from the last one, you might not be able to get to sleep...





Damn.

Its been another week of long, lonely nights.
Leading to another terse call with Wifey.

She has been monosyllabic on the phone since Tuesday and then I spoke to her again, and got the yes/no/don't know treatment. I got fed up and asked if this was because I vetoed the trip, or if there was something else.
She said she was tired, and had a headache as she had just worked nights and was about to say something like "you don't know what its like", as she has used that in an argument before... but as I was on my 5th night and I was calling from work, she stopped herself.

I called later and said goodnight, and again in the morning to ask how they were, but there hasn't been much conversation.

And as I'm going out of the door, Number 1 Son putting my stuff in the car, me upstairs saying goodbye.
I look at her and say I'm sorry, because I can't go to Rome. I can't see how I can plead poverty to my father and everyone else and book a £600 holiday. So for once I have to say "No".
She looks at me and gives me the usual response "What do you want me to say?"
I'm thinking I want you to give me an alternative, be annoyed, try to negotiate, anything that I can work with, react to, help with... but I just get "Ok".
Then she says "I just thought it would be nice to get away so we could relax, and talk and have some"
"What did you say?" I ask... Did she just say "Lets Talk"?
Yes... that's what she said.

So now I'm even more wound up because... We can't talk about it. And We can't go away and talk, because I've vetoed the trip.
Clever.
Its now my fault.

Long weekend... Lots to think about

Firstly, why is it so bad that she wants to go to Rome?
Well - its not bad of itself, but it is bad when you can't afford it. Or rather its very bad when she will move heaven and earth to afford it because she wants it, I will end up in severe crap, I will be ignored and she will probably go ahead and book it anyway.

Secondly. LBJ has had some bad news and I can't really talk about it because I'm not qualified to. But I want her to know that anything I can do to help, I will do. Anything. Anything at all... got that? All she has to do is tell me what it is she wants done.

Ninthly... The Poet seems to have made a little bit of a fool of herself (at least, that's how she sees it) by falling for someone who loves themselves more than anyone else. She was vulnerable and lonely and... he was kind of a big shot in her world. I'm sure she will be fine but she needs a hug or two. I love that she is such a sensitive soul. She wouldn't be a poet if she was a hard case though, would she?

Lastly. Another week of nights begins today and I managed to sleep in until .... 06:15 this morning.
I was almost dropping off when the bin lorry came and destroyed any hope of getting back to sleep. Wish me luck for tonight!

Its worse than I thought.

She wants to to go to Rome.

In/Significance

There are "Significant" dates coming up over the next month.
Number 1 Son turns 18, Wifey turns 50, and our marriage turns 10.

This has left me wondering several things. How to pay for all this celebration, where the HELL the time went, but most of all - Why are these numbers "significant"?
OK - I can see rotation of the planet is something that affects our outlook, and orbits of the star at the centre of our solar system cause a cycle of seasonality to our weather. But that doesn't explain other things. Why is 18 significant? Or 21? 30, 40, or 50? Why are they more important that 11 orbits and 157 diurnal rotations?
Because people decided that they are, and everyone else goes along with it, is the only reason I can see. Let me know if you disagree...