Dithering

I would like to say sorry for not being a more committed and generally present blogger.

I have been quite busy, with some amount of being weird in the head.

As well as the upcoming sad, last week my granny had a heart attack, her second in a month and a half, and is in hospital. My mum has also been all weird in the head (obviously a hereditary trait) and told me I couldn't go back to see granny because she was too busy.

Not granny, mum.

Which was strange.

And then I have been all worried about what I am going to do over the summer because school is, as they say, "out" and so my time is, as they also say, and rightly, for it is an accurate use of the word, "free". Which I understand that most people would think is lovely and glorious and relaxing, but which I find alarmingly empty and open-ended.

I am sometimes not very good at being on my own.

For days.

So I have been trying to work out what to do. And coming up with nothing at all. And trying to register with temp agencies, only to be told by women with strange sing-songy voices that there isn't even any telesales.

NOT EVEN TELESALES!

Which I would be useless at in any case.

(This was meant a be a post about alcohol. Oh well, another day.)

And the other thing is that we are very poor due to a number of issues involving hub not being very good with money, or indeed tax, or, for that matter, fees. So at this point in time a bit of extra income would be really Very Helpful.

Oh I am all of a dither.

Dithery dithery dither.

It is sunny though. And that is nice.

I will never reveal my true identity.

Thanks to Bobo and Hullaballoo for finding a way of finally revealing my true self.


You are Spider-Man

You are intelligent, witty,
a bit geeky and have great
power and responsibility.

Spider-Man		85%
Superman		80%
Robin		72%
Hulk		65%
The Flash		65%
Supergirl		62%
Wonder Woman		62%
Green Lantern		60%
Batman		55%
Iron Man		50%
Catwoman		45%

Click here to take the "Which Superhero are you?" quiz...

Gah.

Only six days ago this little patch of new garden was free of pesky weeds.

My mother tells me I should view the careful easing-free from the soil of the little blighters as therapeutic.

Gah.

The Thing.

So.

The thing is.

(I think this is the thing.)

In twenty days' time it will be the day on which the baby was due.

And although I knew it was coming, at the weekend, I suddenly knew it was coming.

And so I cried in the car park at Sainsbury's (for this is the time when the knowledge chose to strike. It was before we had done the shopping. In case you were wondering.)

There is something tricksy and complicated and difficult in the mourning of something that never was. The grief is attached to a loss, but the loss is attached to a what?

An imagined future?

It is the idea of the parallel life that is so very ouchy. The one in which on the 5th July (or thereabouts) I am in hospital holding a little tiny person, a bundle of life that hub and I made together. (And yes I know that in this parallel life I am also screaming and in the most pain I have ever felt, I am exhausted and covered in baby sick, I am tetchy and resentful and hub and I fight and bicker, I know that too.)

But.

And I want to mark it somehow.

But I don't know how.

Because I don't really know what I am marking.

That I would have loved the little tiny bean that I lost? That I loved it already? That it meant something?

I so badly wanted to know who it was.

So badly.

And I never will.

And the 5th July just makes me know that all the more.

Rubs in it.

Like being smacked around the face with a wet fish.

Only more ouchy.

Eeyore.

Today it hurts a bit too much to grin and bear it.
Today my teeth hurt from crying.
Today my chest feels tight and my tummy full of flutters.
Today hub is at a loss to know what to do (and he has tried tea.)
Today no amount of reasoning or logic is helping.
Today I feel trapped and anxious and a bit lost.

Today is a bad day.

For no reason.

Just a bad day.

I am pleased there will be a tomorrow.

(And a little relieved.)

Go go go go!

There is a book!

It is a Good Book.

And you should buy it!

All roughly half-dozen of you my dearest readers!

It is for a good cause and organised by the fair Lady Peach and her clever team.

And it is full of brill stuff by some pretty blooming ace bloggers.



Do it, man.

You know how you want to and stuff.

PS. It is possible that I am in it. *very quiet whooping with a little jig*

Sunday

The husband has a terribly poorly shoulder.

Last week the doctor told him it was an ill called "Frozen Shoulder" (usually only found in 40-60 year olds, but five times as likely if you have the diabetes. Like what hub does.)

Then this week, when hub went back to the doctor after a sleepless and pain-filled night, the doctor changed his mind.

To "I don't know what it is."

That well-known condition.

So hub has his shoulder in a sling and I have been trying to be a really good wifey and do the washing-up and clean out the cat litter tray and EVERYTHING.

Unfortunately I am a bit hungover and therefore a bit* grumpy.

So I am not being as gracious as I could be.

And after a terrible incident in which a hairbrush attached itself viciously to my hair, my mood has worsened.

But I just ate some bacon, and that helped.

*This is a lie. I am totally and utterly grumpy.