Big Red Button ...

I have a dentist appointment tomorrow.
I booked it the week before last.
I am a bit phobic about dentists.

And a lot phobic about sharp objects near or in my mouth.

I fully intended to scour the diseased and rotting remnants of keratin mascarading as teeth to within an inch of their lives and swilling salt water and mouthwash with careful abandon, but my self destructive crazy inner evil overlord over ruled thoughtful forethought and i believe i have behaved in an even more irresponsible manner than i normally do, which is saying something considering lately.

I wonder how much the cancellation fee is?
$50 would be totally worth it.
I am perfectly happy to pay money to not go to the dentist.

However, the lady who works for the physio would totally not let me get away with it.

It is a shared office and she sits right next too the dentist office admin and the physio appointment is right after the dentist appointment.

She would crucify me.
Annd probably make tutting noises.

Alternatively, i could get my sister to call work and tell them i died and become homeless as an unemployed madcat lady and take up smoking to go with the drinking and move into the empty city centre and bathe occasionally in the river whilst keeping an eagle eye out for the crocodiles that infrequently frequent the urban waters.

The dentist and physio and pathology is in the building next too our medical centre and share a car park and the nice pathology ladies pick up samples from us on a  regular basis.  I get blood tests on a monthly basis.

I am, to use a perfectly sensible though somewhat crude phrase, shitting in my own nest.

Argh!

I don't really want to see the physio either.
Not much one can do in a week exercise wise and i have no idea what tomorrows appointment is supposed to achieve/do?

Excuse me ... i need to go clean my teeth again.

Maybe I should brush with Ajax?

Oh dear ...

... poor Suki was not pregnant, or at least not successfully pregnant.

1.3 grams of pusy infected uterus was removed from my poor sick pussy.
(I couldn't resist an are you being served moment there, sorry peoples)

She forgave me for her first fearfilled foray into the outside world 10 hours or more later, but has now ostracised me since the painkilling injection has worn off.

Suki has always been the most nervy and feral of all my cats.
She can hear a blister pack from rooms away and will hide behind the stove where I cannot reach her for hours, sigh.

All I have to do is look at her in an interested way to scare her into the unknown  hidden pockets of my duplex.

I only know two of her hideaways.
Unfortunately she has four or five.

She is supposed to get her stitches out Saturday, and I am not quite sure if I'll manage it.

She only half destroyed the vets office.

The vet said she was very well behaved once she was wrapped up and covered in a towel.

Funnily enough she likes a pat, as long as you don't physically handle or move her in any way.  I have quite enjoyed the (i now know,  pain inspired) assertiveness of the last couple of weeks.

Ive always thought she would enjoy a house of own without the competition of her siblings.

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.

What is this looming thing?

It is cyclone Debbie.

Soooo not an intimidating name. Why couldn't they at least rename her Deborah when they decided she might be more than cat 3?

How embarrassing would it be to have all ones earthly goods destroyed by Debbie?

Probably i am being insulting to Debbies.
Probably they are a devastating force of nature too, when they want to be, hey?

I just wish work was closed like the schools.

I predict I shall arrive at a surgery with few doctors and spend all morning cancelling appointments (to much abuse, because that is a receptionists lot in life), until such time as i have to drive home in unsafe conditions and be unable to buy any last minute necessities i may require, because sensible businesses closed at midday, so that employees were left with plenty of time to make their homes safe with all the things one does not do till the last minute, like bringing the bins into the house, etc.

In my case, my bins into my kitchen and my scooter into the laundry.

I plan to spend most of tuesday drunk.
(If i can get to a bottle shop in time with the meagre pickings left of my pay after ordering a skip so I  could clean up the block).
Yasi was an all night affair.
Debbie does daytime

Hopefully, Debbie does not blow Townsville ... away.

My poor brother in Mackay will probably have it much worse, though I have great faith in his partner Dianne to have done all sensible insurancy things.  She is much more organised then I  am.  I wish I had a Dianne.

Dianne could totally take Debbie.

Pre-cyclone picture, all blushing pink and orange fire.

Toss ya for it?

Cold in Nth Qld?

It is 4 am, 26 degrees, 77% humidity and I am cold and shivering.

Came on suddenly at about 7 o'clock.

I had a second Glass of wine that did not agree with my medication, but I can't see how that would leave me shivering all night. I thought I was over my cold, but ... Argh.  This feels so weird.

My cats have been lovely and snuggly and Blossom has been keeping my hip warm for me.

Cats are Kool.

Booggled ...

I've managed to kill a scooter in under a year.

Not under warranty cause I missed a service, sigh.

(When I'd hurt my back, but turned out to be a kidney cyst, or a combination of the two and was having difficulties moving about in the morning. Got to and from work and that was about it.  Then the cat was sick.)

One thing at a time though, right?

Tomorrow go explain to Centrelink that I don't owe them $700 from September 2010.

Then pop over to the scooter place to see how much an engine rebuild will cost.

Then decide if there is a chance in heck of getting something sorted before mother arrives so that hopefully she never finds out about it.

I have ten days.

Maybe I can hire a scooter that looks exactly like mine?

And I can't drink cause I started methotrexate today, damnit!  Cheezels just aren't the same.

December curse has kicked in early ...

Rheumatologist visit lovely and will start methotrexate Monday.

Came home to bill from Centrelink from 2010, as they are auditing database s and the group certificate for that job appears to be based on dates payslips processed rather than dates worked however, finally got back into old email and still have the payslips so just need to get in and appeal the decision. Unsure how long or easy that will be.

Newish scooter wot turns one year old January has suddenly ceased to function half way home.

Rental inspection two weeks away and I am working six days a week in lead up too when I would usually take time off.

Left hand is swollen and don't work so good and new medication will take a month or so to kick in.

Mother is arriving early this year and will be here 2nd December.

I am having a very last large drink and battling the urge to just kick the sh*t out of the scooter and set it on fire.

Burn Baby, burn ... like my Christmas.

I learnt a new thing ...

... this week.

Firstly, if one happens to be boiling potatoes, it is probably best not to use water pre-used to boil pasta.

Secondly, it is not a good idea to use a food processor, of any sort, even a-not-quite-a-food-processor (really just a glorifed chopper from a cheap knockoff shop) to purereeaaaeary (sp?) the afforesaid potatos boiled in pasta water.

It resembles something one could use to put up tiles.

It nearly broke my cheap, but quite good all the same, and remarkably easy to clean and very user friendly, cheap but not-quite-a-food-processor.

I've put the results in the fridge.

I am not game to eat it just yet, though I feel I should, cause waste is wasteful.

However, I am still having discomforting dreams/visions about what it would do to my inards.

Plus, it kind of resembles what the little boy at the other end of the hospital ward was vomiting up when i was in hospital on my eleventh/twelfth birthday (cant remember which), though that was quite possibly because all he may have been given to eat was mashed potato. Or possibly icecream.

In which case, it isnt all that surprising it resembled my tragic misbegotten mash.

Holy cow - its Friday!!!

... and so today, I was witness to my parent shitty with step-parent for waking her at an unusually early hour - it was blamed on his orgy of  backgammon since he has been here and thus I tried to rack my brain for things he could do to divert her, but sadly, it is so humid and hot I can't think of anything pleasant, and so he shall be doomed too tramping round the planetarium like wot she has already posited as a cure for my nieces and nephews slack immobility.  I feel such a failure.  Still, I acknowledge there isn't really much to do in Townsville.  I take solice I did not spoil my eldest nieces enjoyment of Breaking Dawn Part One.  Much as I was tempted.  It was actually quite good.

And I don't care how much you don't like the Twilight series or how badly you feel it is writ.  I spent my formative years reading Mills and Boon, so am quite pleased that my nieces have something slightly more complex and moral to keep them occupied.

I am drunk out of my skull and have been bleaching my hair rather unsucessfully.  Kindly my government appointed employment monitors have allocated me only six jobs a fortnight to apply for, but sadly there haven't been six jobs I am qualified for too apply for.  I shall steal myself over the next week to cold call/ well actually cold post a number of business to make up for this weakness in my character.  Perhaps I shall get lucky.

Good gosh - it's only 7:30 pm?

I have fed my fleshy face and thus replete I sit rocking slightly back and forth in my brother-in-laws computer chair - which is just that little bit to willing to tilt backwards than is comfortable.  I catch sight of myself in the door of their mirrored wardrobe and I remind myself of those oblong dolls wot are advertised as impossible to knock over and thus invite abuse ... for the sake of science, of course.

I behaved a bit more like my normal self this afternoon at work.

Well ... normal from a year or two back when I was feeling quite happy and content with my world.
My co-worker, after reading an email I had sent, said the other recipients would be wondering what drugs I was on.

I managed to seque from work to Frankie Howard in one sentence and write 'dooooooooooooooooooom doooooooooom doooooooooooom'.

Of the three people interviewed, two were consecutively offerred my job.
Both declined.

It's a funny old world.

I am not going into work next weekend.  I am going to pick up at home and paint a picture on a t-shirt for my unwell niece.  One of my tempermental cats has been peeing in neglected corners and forgotten piles of stuff.  Have found where that nasty smell in the lounge room has been coming from.  Hold serious concerns for under my bed.  Shall worm the little basket-cases in revenge! mwahahahahahahahahaha

Leadup to latest Rental Inspection

Why do my cats always vomit when I clean house?  I woke to the sweet sounds of retching.  I gave gentle encouragement to Mary-cat to stay in the one spot and to please, please, vomit on the floor and not on an object. The time one of my cats vomited atop my flatmates black mesh entertainment stand and it dribbled through into the television and dvd player is still vivid in my memory.  They are not used to vomiting these inside cats.  They fight against it.  No history of habitual grass chewing and purging behind them.  She tries to swallow it down as it comes up and chews on the remnants like a ruminant.

Testing times

So ... the freezer section of my fridge is now only fridge cold (below 5 degrees) and the fridge section is around 13-15 degrees.  I thought to myself 'maybe its a sign - maybe 15 degrees is the perfect temperature for storing vegetables' or something - a sign I should be making more effort with the healthy eating thing - a sign of encouragement, but no.

It is a good temperature to store potatoes, pumpkin and bananas; but it is the perfect temperature to store wine.

oh hahahahahaha - the irony
and here was me hoping to achieve temperance for a period as an aid to weightloss
oh supreme being, i laugh
you are so funny

Well arse

I thought perhaps if I defrosted the fridge properly it might consider working again, but no.

I did a heap load of washing and hung it out (which is usually the bit which I dont' achieve - just an endless round of washing because I've left them in the machine) so it rained.

I am just not feeling lucky.

I should count my blessings, you say?

I am glad that Michael-cat waited until he was outside to vomit this morning.  I am glad I still have one piece of clothing respectable enough to wear outside the house.  I am glad I am weakwilled and am about to go eat breakfast out, because I like eating breakfast and it is much more enjoyable when somebody else makes it.  As well as being more likely to be edible. 

I hope you all had a lovely breakfast too :)

How you doing?

Tuesday was a day of rest and lovely.

Wednesday was meant to be productive (and partly it was - I went shopping and bought lots of healthy food and stuff - I even bought celery) but I forgot that I thought that maybe tomato soup gives me headaches and I made myself a vegetable soup which may possibly have been a little heavy on the tomato and retired in pain for the rest of the day.

Now my fridge appears to have ceased to function.
Obviously I am not meant to be thin and healthy.
Maybe I should go buy a case of wine and a caftan?

P.S.  Finally got to hear Civil Civic's Run Overdrive and it is rather awesome.  I need to listen to it again before I can decide about the other one, but I liked Run Overdrive immediately.  So that's two out of three of their songs that I have liked instantly :)

I should write a letter of complaint

My lack of ability to have dirty dreams cropped up Sunday morning, though this time it didn't end with me crying in a toilet cubicle. 

In this dream I'd gone to Brisbane for the gig at the Troubadour and I'd booked that 6am return flight that has been disturbing my peace of mind with it's bargain-ness.

As per dream rules I do not get to see the face of the man and I am thankful it is never anybody real - I would find that awkward as heck.  In the dream I know the person, but have never previously met them.  It was implied he was somebody I had talked to over the internet but not specified.

He makes his move and I am tempted, but decline his offer on the grounds that I don't want to have one-night stands anymore (in the dream he doesn't even live in Brisbane and there is no explanation as to why he is there so there and I am of course still living in North Queensland, so there is no chance it being anything more than one-off event) and I had a 6am flight to catch and I really wanted to get at least a couple of hours sleep.

So then the dream gets wildly improbably and the man says he wants to spend time with me and get to know me anyway and we go back to my hotel room and one presumes there must have been some chatting, but the dream skips that and we curl up and go to sleep.  All pleasant so far.

So then we get the closest to a dirty dream I have managed so far in my nearly forty years.  There is some sleepy interaction which leads further and we even get as far as that first slow penetration and then the alarm I've set in the dream goes off and I have to stop, pack and run for the train to the airport.

Makes me sad

Have I mentioned I still havn't won lotto yet?
It is an enduring disappointment.

If only I had sprung forth from a rock egg like Monkey

Have I mentioned I have a rental inspection on Friday?
And that my mother is arriving Thursday?
And that I normally leave my extra cats at my sisters during rental inspections?
And mother thinks I only have two cats?
And that she will go to my sisters first thing when she arrives?

My sister is asking around her friends to see if anybody will let me smuggle my beautiful Blossom-cat and Wooliff-cat and Wombat-kitten at their house for the day, so that we don't get sprung by The Parent.  Else we are going to have to brace for drama and tears.

Do I sound tense?
I'm a little tense.
Bear with my bubbling choking terror over these next few days.
Anticipation of visits from mother make me crazy.
Rental inspections make me crazy.
Travelling makes me crazy.
Probably everything will be fine.
Totally fine.
Yep. Fine.

Edit 6:30pm :  SCORE!!!  Sister has a friend who will let me drop my cats off.  Sister is dropping cage over tomorrow afternoon.  Sister is good. Friend of sister is good.

Edit 8:04 pm:  The Parent just called and she will be arriving Friday.  So now I just have to work out how I can borrow my sisters car and pick up the cats without attracting Mums attention - which will be tricky cause she will be expecting me to be here to greet her and probably have dinner  - borrowing are car will lead to her inquiring why I need the car and if I fib and say I just need to buy a few things she may very well offer to drive me herself or something.

I'm 40 next year.
This is undignified, isn't it?

Dressing Gown - alternate title: if only i had a brain

My choices were many.  In the weeks pending pay day I pondered my options and decided on the blue and white one.  It turned out to only be in stock in small and could not encompass the sweeping expanse of my arse.  I purchased the pale green one with roses instead :)

A very lazy long weekend so far.  The quandary of whether to rise early and secret easter eggs around my niece's and nephews yard resolved by them going camping out at the farm.

I have let myself into their home, driven by the urge for avocado on toast with salt & pepper and a squeeze of lime juice.  I don't own a toaster.  Must do something about that one day.

I suspect my beloved Blossom-cat is stealing my pillow as I type.

I know I said I was going to post this yesterday, but .... when I entered the pre-paid credit voucher into the computer it kept saying it was an invalid number.  I went back to the newsagency to check they hadn't given me something meant only for a mobile phone or something instead, but no.  Tried a few more times on the off chance it was just some kind of connection glitch.  Notification popped up to say I'd had to many tries and now needed to contact telstra on 1258880.  Tried to call that number and the recordings only seemed to give mobile phone options.  Called four or five times to test the various options as there was no 'press star to go backwards' option.

Was feeling a little cross.  Sat down to sulk.  Suddenly realised that I'd bought a virgin pre-paid credit and that I was actually with Telstra for my internet.

sigh

Looked at the back of the box the sticky thing had come in.  Realised the service number looks the same as a mobile phone number.  Realised this was the box for the second stick I had bought when the cats broke the first one and therefore this service number was no good to me as I had put the old sim card into the new stick and that I had no idea where the first box was.

Had brilliant idea of then just getting the second sim card activated, but after sitting on hold and listening to music for ten or more minutes after being put through by the automated service, concluded there was nobody picking up and gave up. 

Reminded myself it was long weekend/Easter and people are allowed to have time off and don't have to stay slaving away at work just because I want something.  Read a book instead.

Wish I were asleep

Midway through Sunday launched into action, spurred on by the mess and bad smell. Clean and mop laundry, kitchen and half lounge.  Washed the cat dishes and everything. 

Muliple cats then proceeded to vomit in various places. 

One all water and saliva and red tinged.  Feelings of panic.  Isolate cat in bathroom for periodic observation.  No more bloody spew.  Catch her later that night nibbling on the plastic veneer strip on a cheap flatpack bookcase.  Mutter darkly. 

Read book. 
9ish. 
Hear dogs. 
Race outside in nylon slip.  Three dogs roaming across road.  Growl 'get out of it' and hiss and urge them away.   Go look for Bubba and Michael. 

Hear Bubba, but does not come?  He always comes when called. 

Neighbour has put cat trap out and Bubba is shut inside.  Greedy fat cat.  Habour dark thoughts about neighbours.  Cannot find Michael-cat.  Is probably up a tree playing possum cause of dogs.  Call periodically for next hour and vow to wake early and check cat trap again. 

Michael back in morning.  I shut inside.  Bubba whinges and whinges in his high little squeaky voice.  Cave and let Bubba out.  He doesn't normally go far.  Put on helmet and set to go.  See another dog roaming free.  Shut Bubba inside to loud protest.  Wonder what destruction will ensure.

And then!

 And then I got yelled at by a policeman on the way home!  Friday sucked.

(there was a car accident and the tow truck was loading the car on my side of the road, so I waited until the tray had finished moving, but apparently the policeman had been motioning me forward to the other side of the road at the time and he thought I was just gawking at the accident)