Wednesday, July 5, 2017

I had a dream ....

... a short dream.

A first dream.
... of multiple dreams ...

There were others after, interspersed with worries and stress caused by work pressures and the nurse manager telling me i nearly killed one of their patients - because receptionists are the enemy and they aren't my patients at all even though I've been there five years or more.

Whatever ...

In my dream i had a massage. Not just an ordinary massage. More nearly a ceremony with smoke, and fragrance, but not incense, and though it could have turned sexual (of please! Yes please! I never get to have sex dreams, damnit!!!!) it was just lovely and i woke up with the shoulder i am continually troubled by with cramps and spasms all soft and lush and relaxed.  Everything was relaxed.

It was beautiful.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

WARNING - Sad post alert - Last saturday ...

... my beautiful Pease Blossom ...
  (a boy, just to clarify)
((my main cat, just to be more clarifcific)) ...
passed away, convulsing in my arms.
He had renal failure and was not robust in his illnesss. Many times choosing not to eat.

If i were rich he would have spent weeks on drips and bi-weekly blood tests and over $100 monthly pills.

Such was not possible.

He would hide if a car pulled up in front of a neighbours house.
When at the vets he would need to be force fed unless i could visit, for he would not eat or defect if i were not present.

He always slept on my hip, or back or stomach.
He would be on my lap if i were still.
Or on my back if i so much as leant slightly forward.
He liked back-surfing.
I would take him on trips around the house like so.

He waged a war with the Tablet, where he won if he sat closer to my face than the screen.

I had to work last Saturday.
I work every Saturday now because no one else wants to work saturdays, even though they know i would like to have two days off in a row at least once a month. Even though i cover all their shifts whenever they don't want to work them.

The manager was on leave, so i didn't feel able to not work.

Blossom waited until i came home.

I rinsed his mouth out under the tap and bundled him in a blanket, stroking his poor head.

He seemed to give me a purr, though that could well have been my overstrained imagination.

I cradled his corpse for far longer than was probably necessary because i couldn't differentiate between the blood pulsing in my ears and a heartbeat.

He is currently in my freezer pending a decision on burial.

Its been raining alot.
The irony is fierce.
It rarely rains here.
We have been on level three water restrictions for months.
The radio station personalities are calling Townsville "the Dome".

My yard is underwater, so burial with commerative garden is unfeasible at present.

I am very sad.
He was a very nice cat.
He was only nine.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Fed up

I am fed up with the stupid pills.

I am not that upset with pain.
It really isn't​ all that bad for me.
It is a very mild flare.

I was upset with the deterioration in my hands, but nothing seems to be helping with the restrictions being imposed on my tendons. Indeed, it seems to be worse on the medication. I have three fingers which used to bend wot no longer do.

I only wanted to see a specialist because the disease was impacting on my ability to work, but medication appears to have a worse affect.

If I were rich and didn't have to work, I would persist.

... but fuck this for a lark ...

The stupid medication makes me sad.
I am randomly crying.

I have a nice, pleasant, no stress life.
I've worked hard too make it so.

I should not be crying into my​ dinner.

I will ring tomorrow to cancel the follow up appointment.

I have finally gotten round to buying a cd player, and am enjoying Bach's cello suites. Ta yo-yo Maa. You is da boom, hey?

You do me much more good than the silly pills.

Friday, April 7, 2017

Pill night Thursday ...

... so intense dreams.

First dream, started as a home invasion of my current abode. Managed to get a call off to 000 before the tyre-iron welding men got in, then unexplainably relocated to my grandmothers home (but which is a frequent location for my dreams).

Towards the end of the dream, with the police never showing up, I had skin tags and warts noted by my main attacker on my arms and shoulders and he decided that he would cut them off and excise them without any form of anesthetic or alcohol.  My semi naked figure was tied to a table whilst he cut and sewed with black thread.

Dream two was lovely and involved me travelling repetatively through mustard, blue, green and pink corridors and stairs. The green being my favourite because I tapshoed and shuffled my way down them too joyous music.  These are the colours my grandmothers houses walls were painted. A colour for each wall. Apparently it was the fashion at the time. My mother picked the colours out.

Dream three consisted of my current abode crumbling and sinking into the earth. I was trying to rescue my books.  It started with a leak in the bathroom wall that slowly ate the concrete away and ended with my whole family there, but not being much help and myself squirralling through openings to get to the closed off rooms to throw my books out the windows to safety.

My situation not helped with being unable to call ghe landlaord straight away because we had to clean the kitchen and lounge before he saw it, because I am such a messy person.

Dream two was lovely.
I wish I had more like them.

They're usually more like dream one and two, though they are exciting and interesting too.

I love dreaming :)

Saturday, April 1, 2017


I have been raised with a hetrosexual viewpoint, but still keep in mind childhood crushes on admired girls/teachers and do not rule them out, but am not a sexual being.

Indeed sex seems like a great deal of exercise for a muscle spasm.

I have never had a girl on girl relationship, though I have been assumed to be lesbian by others in the past.  At the schhols I went to girls didn't mix much with boys, and after that I have mostly always worked with older women.

I admire and adore a friend met online named Bec. She is awesome.  She is also beautiful, intelligent and talented.  I would feel inferior in her presence if she were not so lovely.  Instead, she makes you feel more ept and enabled and smarter, just being around her.

There is a young lady with a boyish look (a cross of Bec and a boy I was in love with when I was six) who works at the local supermarket.

She crosses all my wires and I stutter like a fool when she serves me.

Friday, March 31, 2017

I am sadness ...

I wish I still possessed a copy of Lady Hawke, for I am sadness.

I know it's only been a fortnight since Ted died, but I am subject to tragic thoughts when I Scooter.  I started crying half way home from work.  Really it is enough to put One off Scooters.  Great though they are.

It was the same with Bubba after he disappeared. I guess Ted is the closest I've come to having a long term relationship to anything.  It is only fair that I cry as much for Ted as I did for Bubba.

I wish I was still painting, even though I've never shown any talent for it.

It was a stopgap that stemmed the bad thoughts.

I shall buy a canvas this weekend to hammer into my subconscious my lack of talent and hopefully the urges will ebb. It's not as if I am any kind of artist?? It​'s stoopid. Appropriate for the stoopid pills, hey?

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

I blush ...

... there was perhaps a moment when, perhaps, the wind was too strong to fly a kite ... but only a moment.  I think we've had about three minutes of heavy rain since.

Obviously, many people south of Townsville have lost their homes and businesses, and perhaps i may possibly have enjoyed Kochies nervousness on the balcony a little too much.  Whilst also being a little turned on at his stern dadlike cautioning of the cameraman who wanted to get some more impressive shots of a piece of guttering that had come off the building.

But also, somewhat suffering the guilt of wishing something a bit bad would happen to idiots flying to a natural disaster before it happens.

It's just wrong.

And the whole standing around outside during a cyclone thing ... ?!?!

You can take illicit drugs, hey?
It is probably safer.

Don't know what is organised vis a vis donations to flood/cyclone relief, but please consider qld if you have spare moola.

It's nice and warm at the moment, so no one is cold, and people help each other, so no one is starving, but replacing clothes and daily necessities costs a lot of money, not to mention all the businesses which won't be operating and employing people.

And cat food.
And kitty litter!
My cats won't crap outside when it is too wet.
Really, i am sure everybody has enough to put up with without cat shit on top of everything else.

Edit: over 30%heat and high humidity, no airconditioning or even ceiling fans because no power ... and no deodorant!

Edie edit:  solar powered fairy lights are surprisingly useful.
That's how my family lit their bathroom for a week with the power off last cyclone.
A bit of light to help find the toilet comes in handy.