My god�there are so many reasons to be afraid�
* I�m writing a diary entry (this�cannot�be�normal???)
* It�s a Saturday and it�s NOT EVEN 9.30am�
�so I�m starting this off honestly�I�m mainly writing (and writing this early) because my boyfriend is a nasty person and likes to take his anger at himself, and his ex, and everything else in general, out on me.
Fuck it. I don�t even want to think about him you know? He�s shit to me. I�m probably shit to him as well but at least I speak up. At least if I feel upset about something I TELL him�I don�t keep it inside until I can�t contain it anymore and then have a temper tantrum and break a shitload of things before I can get to the point about why I�m upset. I can�t believe him�
It�s pretty hard to write about things that have made you happy when you feel fucking miserable. It doesn�t help that this week is the year�s anniversary of my Nan�s stay in hospital. This time last year I was doing the same as I am today�crying far too much and wondering what the hell I�m going to do. For different reasons though. And I hate him for making me feel like this during this week. I especially hate him because I AM FUCKING HERE FOR HIM and I�ve been talking him through things that have been getting him down but nah, fuck it, Lou doesn�t deserve any consideration AT ALL because Matt�s problems are so much huger and MORE IMPORTANT.
God damn�I�ve just realised that I put washing in the machine 20 minutes ago�plugged it in and then never turned it on. I�m a leedle bit distracted�
CARE HOME???
So, it was father�s day a week ago (ish) and I really wanted to write about it sooner�thinking about it now makes me smile actually. Well, MOST of it does�
I spent the morning and most of the afternoon with Matt, B and Chris, chilling out and then shopping (got a gorgeous shirt covered in chinese dragons and chrysanths�photo yet to be taken!)�I ended up being late getting round to see Dad but he was still only half dressed so my presents (a linen shirt and some toffee) ended up being more useful than I�d anticipated :o) so, only a few hours late (ahem) me, dad and Steph set off to see Grandad.
On the good side, Grandad was amazing :o) he was standing up when we got there (wow! Usually he only stands up when he�s having a flashback and trying to fight off the Japs�*sigh*) and he was just ACE! He was chatting, smiling, being really lucid at times too! It was so so nice to see him and SO nice to see him looking happier and healthier than I�ve seen him in ages. I took him some fudge (which he loved�but I�m SURE the �nurses� will end up stealing it) and checked his room�
�where I took a photo of a photo of him (because I didn�t have my camera and we�re not *supposed* to have our phones on inside the home)�he doesn�t really look like this anymore though�
�and I took a picture of his room too (I was stood in the doorway�the door on the right hand side is the en-suite and everything else you can see pretty much)
It�s not too bad really, but there�s hardly anything of his in there�and Dad says that a lot of stuff has gone missing. I know he doesn�t really know who he is or where his is anymore, but I still don�t understand how anyone could steal from a person who�s in a situation like that.
But anyway�Steph and I finished nosing around and went back downstairs and Grandad was eating dinner. He just had sandwiches but he was eating them himself and WANTING to eat them (which I haven�t really seen before, he�s always fighting against us urging him to eat) and shouting at me when he thought I was going to take one�we were having a really good time and all four of us were laughing pretty much ALL the time. And then I noticed what looked like a piece of glass in the cream of Grandad�s trifle�
�not good. Dad went mental. I went mental (in a calm way I hasten to add!!!) and god�shit! That could have killed him! It wasn�t glass in the end (they don�t have glass in places like that for that very reason) BUT it was toughened plastic and it was a sharp as glass in some places and wouldn�t have done an old person any good whatsoever. Dad�s started off a whole chain of complaints�I just can�t believe it happened. The girl serving the food out just shrugged when we told her�I can�t believe she hadn�t seen it. She must have been fucking stupid. It makes me so angry to think that if we hadn�t been there something horrible could have happened.
Argh!
How do you start calming down over something like this? At least the staff (well, some of them) seemed concerned about what had happened and what could have happened if Grandad had just been left to his own devices. Another upsetting thing was that the whole time we were there this old woman kept moaning �help me, oh help me please�� and all of the staff were ignoring her�AND another time, the other woman, Jackie (who seems quite lucid, it�s just that she needs looking after because she�s disabled) was calling out for help and shouting that she�d shit herself (her words, not mine) and everyone was walking past. Dad actually had to call a member of staff and point out what she was saying to them. I worry that if Grandad HAD eaten that plastic then he�d have been in pain, calling for attention, and no-one would have paid him any *silently goes mad* I could cry�I really could. I can�t imagine how Dad must feel about this�
Afterwards we all went for some food and talked about what had happened. I think it�ll all be okay because Dad�s not going to let go�maybe we can even get the social health people to move Grandad somewhere with fewer residents and more staff where he�ll get more attention�but I don�t think I�ll hold my breath about that.
Despite the crapness�and the almost hour-long wait for our food�we all enjoyed each others company, and I loved seeing Dad. It�s hard because he works nights during the week so he leaves for work as I get in, and then the weekends I always end up spending all my time with Matt or catching up on the stuff I don�t get to do mid-week and I end up neglecting him (and mom, and steph to be honest�I�m sorry guys. I know how crap I am. I�m crapper than a piece of plastic in a trifle). I just liked that we all got to have an afternoon out, have some laughs together and be there for each other :o)
THE PLASTIC IN MY TRIFLE�
�at the moment, work is getting me down so much. It makes me as angry as the trifle�
I like it from 8.15 until about 8.45, 9am ish when my team leader comes in. She greets me with �Hello Lou bee lou!� and is all friendly and asks about things from the day before�but the other day I heard her talking about me, literally behind my back, at her desk whilst I was sat at mine (about 10 feet away)�and she�s told poonam that I was going to make a complaint about another girl at work (when I wasn�t) and although it wasn�t in a malicious way (she was just gossiping) she doesn�t seem to realise that you can�t do stuff like that when you�re a team leader. She�s also the kind of person who might try and make your life miserable if she doesn�t like you�so I�m keeping my mouth shut for the moment. And I�m thinking of starting at 7am instead, that way I get an hour extra of peace and quiet in the morning, and I get to leave an hour earlier�and the mornings can be beautiful sometimes�
It�s stressing me out (Mandy�I sympathise so so much, and I�m going through nothing compared to you) and sometimes I end up tossing and turning all night (like I probably will tomorrow) with anxiety at the thought of going to work, and so I�ve started to imbibe shitty coffee like there�s no tomorrow. I have visited starbucks every morning for the past fortnight, and now I�m having extra shots in all my coffee�some mornings I restrict myself to a tall�with no pastry. But some mornings I have to have the fat and the sugar and the sticky-icky-ickiness�mmmm�here�s proof that I, a) go to work, b) drink starbucks, c) still look stoned in the morning�
I can�t wait to leave. I really can�t. I don�t even know if I�ve completed my application for the masters yet. I�m not even sure I still want to do it�Big Tim is back from Portugal and he�s trying to talk us into moving over there again. He�s talking about me learning indian head massage and getting a job in a bar and spending all day lying in the sun and visiting the beach and siestas (except they don�t speak spanish so it�s not tecnically a siesta) and Matt tattooing and just LIVING for a change. And it seems very very attractive. Who knows. I�m crap at deciding things. I�m sitting here right now still undecided as to whether I should still be here. Bad aren�t I???
Steph�s enjoyed her work eperience a lot more than I�m enjoying work though, which is good :o) she�s gone to the same place I did mine (a family friend�s business�stitch) and it�s really nice and relaxed� couldn�t believe it�d been 8 years since I was there answering phones, making tea, filing and playing sonic the hedgehog�on tuseday mom picked me up from work and then we picked steph up from work (hee hee) and then popped back to Stitch�s for a cuppa. He�s got five year old twins, Mya (I hope that�s how they spell it) and Hari and they were a bit shy when we got there but after a while they started using steph as a trampoline and then they mugged her�.for her shoes!!! Ha ha ha�it was so cute, especially when they were dragging along the floor on her ankles (I�ve lost that photo though!!! Goddamn!)
�and what can you do when a five year old takes your phone and starts trying to take pictures of you???
LOOOOOONG WEEKEND�.
This weekend feels like it�s been a weekend long already�
Tim arrived on Wednesday and came over for the evening�and stayed over! Him and Matt spent all day together on Thursday and when I got back from work on Thursday afternoon Tim was cooking the BEST fucking curry I�ve had ina long time. There was no meat in it whatsoever (which suited me fine) and instead he�d used mango, pinapple, apple�everything matt won�t eat. And guess what? Matt bloody ate it. Ha ha ha�even though I am a bit pissed off that he�ll act �normal� around everyone else and just be mean and negative towards me�but yeah.
After that, we packed up and headed off towards Shrewsbury to a place called the�erm�butter something. I have a good memory. And we listened to some gooooooooood saxophonising and some excellent reggae music. I don�t know the main guy who was playing (Luciano�) but I know a few of his tracks and I had a great time (despite being so wrecked by the time we got there that I was falling to sleep during bits)�and I had some fucked up fun in the dark on the way home�ha ha ha, how dirty does that sound??? I was just taking photos and liking the effects�like this very weirldy spooky one�you might have to look closely.
�and�I think I look like some kind of cyborg in this one :o) street lights and a sloooow shutter (the sony ericsson camera phones aren�t as brilliant as they make out) make weird light trails :o)
�and at about 4am on Friday morning we got in, crawled into bed�smoked a bit more and cuddled up�
�and Matt woke me with a cup of tea at about eleven which was sooooooooo niiiiiiiiiice (Tim had made it, but even so�) and I finished my book and then we got ready and trawled off to Bromsgrove where we ate gorgeous wonderful amazing cafe food (mmmm�sausage bacon and tomato on crusty bread�) outside in the hot hot sun and I couldn�t help but think of everyone who was in work and have a little chuckle to myself because it�s not often that I get to do anything nice on my days off�oooh, I�m mean too sometimes. Bad me. Matt and Tim had big greasy fry ups and Tim refused a photo on the grounds that he had a strong aversion to having his picture taken. Fair enough�Matt doesn�t mind�much ha ha
Then we dropped Tim off, came home, had a bath together (yay!!!! Bubbles and a boyfriend, what more could you want?) and then we were very very naughty in the afternoon heat�and then we went back to sleep til it was time to raid the chipshop. And so after all that it already felt like Sunday and now it�s Saturday and I�m VERY confused�
RIGHT NOW�
�it�s 12.15�I�ve been writing this (and drinking tea, and putting washing on, and getting unnaturally interested in the emmerdale omnibus, and smoking, and uploading pictures�see�I�m not just slow) for 3 hours.
I need more tea. I need more to smoke. I need a pop tart or something.
I still don�t know what to do but I do feel a bit better after writing all of this. A huge part of me is saying that I should understand that he�s going through a lot and try and be here for him. It�s hard being there for someone who blames you for lots of stuff, but I�ve done it to him and he�s still here so shouldn�t I do the same? I think I'm mostly upset that he's gotten angry and shouty after we've had such a brilliant few days - it's like he's two different people sometimes and I find that hard to handle.
It�s only 2 weeks (and a few days) til I go to Canada so maybe that'll be a good break for us? I'm looking forward to it...and I�m supposed to be going to Alton towers in a week or so and we'll have fun together there. There's 11 of us all going and Matt's organised a mini-bus and pre-booked our tickets. I'm impressed that he's pulled it all together, it's for B's birthday so I hope it all comes off ok...okay, I'm delving deep into crap dairy-writing now. I shall cease the rubbishness�I�m going to go and do something useful.
So far, I�m feeling a bit like this�
Commissioned from:
Last Lemon Productions!
