Everything’s just tickityfuckityboo. So Malcolm Tucker would say. Of course, the sarcasm dripping from a word like tickityfuckityboo is rip your skin off obvious and wear it has a handbag. I could be poor old Nicola Murray from The Thick of It today, such is the colossal fuck up that has been my day. I love how she always has a bottle of Rescue Remedy on the go.
I’m so pissed off – no, “pissed off” hardly does it justice – I’m tempted to get a bottle of your finest gin, good sir, and the biggest box of your strongest stuff, swallow them all, down the gin and cry from the rooftops, Hemingway style, Adios fuckers, being alive is not worth this shit!
Well, I would buy gin and pills if I could afford them but, you know, I’m broke. Flat fucking stoney broke. As per goddamn usual. And I refuse to go out on Tesco Value gin and generic paracetamol. If I’m doing it, I’m doing it in style and blowing my entire E-Flow Toll fine budget on the best spirits and painkillers available.
I just saw the guy who did The Thing That Happened To Me, cool as a smirking cucumber – did I project a smirk on his tough-as-fuck face or is that his default facial stance? He’s bigger than I remember and I remember him being well built – brick and shit house. I haven’t see the whole of him in years, just that moon face driveby encounter at Christmas.
Synecdoche. Only bits of him haunt me, rendering my arms powerless in my sleep. He is not a whole. He is body parts.
He didn’t see me again this time. Did he see me four months ago or did he see through me? This time I was driving by in a much older, smaller car than his. He was standing, at a bank machine. I have no money in my account to require queueing at an ATM. I wish I had a big new, black fuck off Range Rover that he would envy so he’d know he hadn’t beaten me. Does he even know we’re in competition? No. That league table of life points exists only in my head.
Later on Friday…
So that was four or five hours ago. After I finished the last paragraphs, sitting in my car in the car park of Ubiquitous But Failing Huge Supermarket, I entered aforementioned store, only to hear the name of The Guy Who Did The Thing called out over the tannoy system – it wasn’t him, just a common name – but still I thought, “Oh, fuck off”. So I bought myself an eighty nine cent hydrating face mask, ninety nine cent razors and a sixty nine cent sponge. So fuck you, Guy, I’m going to smooth out the recurring creases you crumpled into me, on a budget. Small victories.
I had a dental appointment this morning. I was dreading it. I eat a lot of sugary things, drink a lot of smoothies, snack every couple of hours and grind my teeth. I do floss and use a good mouth wash but I hadn’t been to a dentist in three (ish) years. I sat in the Chair of Horror apologetically, apologising for the state of my teeth which, it turns out, are very healthy. I needed just one filling replaced and I’ve to go in to get knocked out to have my bottom two wisdom teeth removed, hopefully in the next few weeks.
The sheer relief of having a medical card so we can get these things done. I was able to take Elsadaughter to the doctor yesterday for her hayfever prescription (boy, does that kid suffer) and to get an antibiotic cream for her skin which is actually not bad at all but I’m terrified her beautiful face will be ravaged by acne like mine was when I was that age and it had a terrible effect on my confidence and social skills. I don’t know if her card will cover the top brace she needs, orthodontists seem to be in a charging class of their own.
Yesterday was really just a string of financial pressures. But hey, we got through it.
And we’re healthy, safe, not starving or awaiting an aid convoy. As soon as my social welfare comes through, I’m donating to Concern’s efforts in Nepal. Of course, there are plenty of people in the Developing World who need our donations (you know, cos us Westerners can fix everything) but I guess there’s a single mother in Nepal needs a few bob more than I do.
Donate here: https://www.concern.net/
I had a very kind gesture yesterday from an unexpected source. To be honest, the card meant more to me than the contents but I’m doing my darnedest to fuck things up and drive this person away. Self-preservation tactic? Probably. Being an impossible bitch? Definitely.
There is kindness and goodness in the world and I’m lucky to have such people in my life, on both sides of the Atlantic, who pick me up everytime I stumble over myself, which is often.
I really miss my mam this week which is strange because I’d never see her during the week and could go a month or so without being home. We don’t call everyday, just the odd text but knowing she’s only an hour away makes everything more solid so while I’m glad My Lady had a nice holiday, I’ll be relieved when she’s back. Just don’t tell her that. Or that the dogs slept with us in her bed last night.
Happy Friday to you all. The weekend can be especially difficult for those of us suffering with depression or social anxieties so do check in with your vulnerable friends and reach out of you need to.
Remember sometimes you don’t have to have a good day, just have a day.