Conflicted of Leicester

It’s been full on since we got back from Wales.  In fact, within twenty minutes of arriving home, Jason had his face in the bowels of the dishwasher, which had gone tragically wrong while we were away, and I was packing the car with boxes to take to Tilly’s house. It’s been rather like that ever since.

Jason fixed the dishwasher, much to our delight and celebration. Sadly, this morning when I got up it was making a horrible grinding noise and has broken again. I feel a plumber/possible new dishwasher in our future.

I have been attempting to work like a real person since yesterday. It turns out that this is trickier than anticipated for several reasons.

I am still not sleeping brilliantly and have a tendency to turn my alarm clock off in the morning due to the fact that mornings are the best, most delicious types of sleep while waking up every two hours because you’ve had a nightmare or another hot flush during the night is not a delicious kind of sleep.

I am not very disciplined, especially when it comes to entering thousands of things on spreadsheets and I tend to find myself staring, trance like into the middle distance while I am supposed to be deciphering my own cryptic notes/handwriting.

Domestic incidents, such as broken dishwashers and the need to cook dinners will arise. I am busy most evenings this week so my dinner planning has to be done and executed during the day. Currently I am cooking the world’s largest sausage casserole because I have a meeting to go to shortly and when I get back, my house will be full of Dungeons and Dragons people who will all be starving hungry, and I am out again later because I committed to going to a Clubbercise class this evening (I am a fool to myself).

I am, in the midst of this new domestic/work etc discipline attempting to tame cats so that I don’t have to spend my life acting like the cat doorman of a seedy hotel that was once grand but is now very much on its uppers.

I am also trying not to worry about Tallulah who has mock results coming up and CAMHS for the first time in a month this week, or Tilly who is feeling a bit wanting to move out/not wanting to move out. Also, I have taken delivery of Oscar’s drum kit today. Luckily there is a headphone attachment so I am hoping I can drown out any dull thuds.

I am also attempting to be positive about exercise. I really, really don’t want my bones to crumble to dust and become a tiny, comma shaped crone, but I do loathe and detest moving about. I am going to Clubbercise because it sounds like a rave and it’s in the dark, and I am hoping that it will be like going to the Hacienda and not really like going to the gym in a school that smells of Lynx and sweat. I am, as you can see, finding it hard to be positive about exercise.

My house is driving me absolutely crazy.  There is stuff to go in the loft, stuff to go to Tilly’s, stuff to go to the tip. There is stuff that people are not sure what to do with and have just lobbed into an abandoned space in the hope that it will miraculously sort itself out. There is stuff I have listed to sell, stuff that I have not listed to sell yet, stuff that needs repairing. There is just stuff everywhere. The two, warring temptations within me are to a) burn the house down and run away to a convent and b) send everything to the tip/charity shop.  I am resisting both of these, but it is a bit hair pullish. All will be better when Tilly’s boxes are gone and we can make sense of her room. Although that thought in itself is making me want to cry.

I am trying not to beat myself up about my failures and to commend myself for my achievements but I am extremely anxious this week and it’s proving a ceaseless fight.

I am, as you can see, somewhat conflicted.

However:

I have listed things and entered things on spreadsheets. I have sold things. I have updated blog posts and social media. I have bought myself a box file so that I can store receipts and postage proofs not in a huge carrier bag of doom, but in an organised way. This is all good.

I have introduced all three cats to each other in the same room twice today. Once for 25 minutes, once for 3 minutes, but both times without bloodshed or the need to go to the vet. We were all rather pounding of heart, sweaty of palm/paw when it was over, but it was a huge achievement considering that Derek wanted to rip their eyes out and wear their pelts as a Davy Crockett hat a few months ago.

Also, Anorak has decided that I am his best friend and we must go everywhere together. He does not really do cuddles but does do nose booping. We are spending quite a lot of time nose booping and he likes to wind himself about my person whilst purring like a motorboat. This is all very lovely but hampers day to day activities somewhat. Ronnie nearly strangled himself in the blinds in Tilly’s bedroom yesterday. He remains somewhat simple.

I have cooked, both yesterday and today and nobody will starve to death on my watch. I have also used up things in the fridge that were galloping around, knocking on the door to come out. I need to start food budgeting properly, and meal planning properly as our budget is fierce and upon us. I can’t cope with it this week. There are only so many new leaves a woman can turn over before she looks like an agitated flasher in a bush. Luckily for me I have lots of stuff in store cupboards and freezers to depend on this week.

I have emptied the dishwasher and washed all the pots, so that whoever is going to stare into the bowels next, can do so without being speared by a paring knife and covered in yesterday’s meatball sauce.

I have ticked off several really boring but necessary chores.

I also made time for a bit of self care. I went to see my friend Mairi last night for an aromatherapy treatment. I don’t care what you think about aromatherapy, but I went in so stressed I could have pared cheese with my shoulder blades and came out feeling calm and relaxed, so it’s a resounding thumbs up from me. She’s brilliant.

I have read 65% of Diary of a Drag Queen by Crystal Rasmussen.  This has proved to be a bit of an eye opener. I now know a considerable amount more about the world of fisting than I ever did, or perhaps wanted to. It’s quite the read. I shall write more about it when I have finished it. I used to want to be a drag queen, but to be honest, on current form I just don’t think I’ve got the stamina.

 

2 responses to “Conflicted of Leicester

  1. If I had done all that, I would be awarding myself several putty medals.

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