splodgenoodles: (Default)
I have that sense of satisfaction one gets when all the groceries have been put away. Even the cheese is cut up and in its special box, and there is cut ginger in the freezer.

Pork roll for tea.
splodgenoodles: (Lock stock stoner eyes)
Getting a new belt drive for [livejournal.com profile] tenbears' turntable is definitely better than a poke in the eye with a pointed stick.


And having had both happen today, I should bloody know.

~~~~

It's okay, the eyepokery was medically mandated and supervised and the new belt drive is belt driving as it should, so I am now kicking back to Alladin Sane. Next stop will be something else with enourmous cred, probably The Clash or something. Maybe even Jimmy And The Boys (five people reading this are nodding in recognition and now want to have sex with me, the rest of you are just feeling like you should).

I might eventually get to Mel And Kim's 12" Respectable, but I'm sure as hell not going to blog that.
splodgenoodles: (Lock stock stoner eyes)
Getting a new belt drive for [livejournal.com profile] tenbears' turntable is definitely better than a poke in the eye with a pointed stick.


And having had both happen today, I should bloody know.

~~~~

It's okay, the eyepokery was medically mandated and supervised and the new belt drive is belt driving as it should, so I am now kicking back to Alladin Sane. Next stop will be something else with enourmous cred, probably The Clash or something. Maybe even Jimmy And The Boys (five people reading this are nodding in recognition and now want to have sex with me, the rest of you are just feeling like you should).

I might eventually get to Mel And Kim's 12" Respectable, but I'm sure as hell not going to blog that.
splodgenoodles: (bobthebuilder)
I'd really like to have my sense of smell back some time soon. Just before this cold wiped out my sense of smell completely and as 10B's already not-very-reliable nose was going, we had a bad stench crisis in a corner of the living room. The sort that has you visualising dead possums in the wall cavity.

We think 10B fixed it - it might have been nothing more than a dishwasher maintenance issue.

But we're not sure.

OTOH, if it's not fixed because it is, in fact, a dead possum in the wall cavity, then I'd rather it my sense of smell stay away for a least a few more weeks.

~~~
splodgenoodles: (bobthebuilder)
I'd really like to have my sense of smell back some time soon. Just before this cold wiped out my sense of smell completely and as 10B's already not-very-reliable nose was going, we had a bad stench crisis in a corner of the living room. The sort that has you visualising dead possums in the wall cavity.

We think 10B fixed it - it might have been nothing more than a dishwasher maintenance issue.

But we're not sure.

OTOH, if it's not fixed because it is, in fact, a dead possum in the wall cavity, then I'd rather it my sense of smell stay away for a least a few more weeks.

~~~
splodgenoodles: (Lock stock stoner eyes)
[livejournal.com profile] tenbears got back last night, hurrah!

Two nights away, he was. And me without proper couch-enabled internet access. And did I mention the landline kept dropping out too? It's been doing that a lot lately.

And frankly, it's bloody lonely round here without him. Both on the generalised alone stakes and on being sans 10B in particular.

Of course he's off at work now but at least I know he's around.

In other news, I got that email about that clinical trial that I'm hoping to join.

In other, other news, the study still ain't right. This is the room in which I spend most of my time and keep most of my stuff. 10B recently shifted all the heavy bits of furniture and my home-carer packed away a whole lot of things for me, but I still don't have that sense of comfort and convenience when I'm there. I've now got a couch to recline on, the desk and it's mountain o'stuff is no longer the first thing you see from the doorway, but lots of little-but-essential things don't have a suitable place yet. Constant tidying is needed, which means things aren't right. In a well-organised space, things simply don't get that messy that fast.

I think the solution lies in Howard's Storage World. This is the shop for people who are frightened of the Ikea maze or simply want to avoid it on general principles (which is me, ever since the time I walked in through their front door to use the toilet and couldn't get out again without going all the way round because the automatic doors only worked from one side. I could even see the exit doors, mere metres away through the kiddies ball room but it was no use I could not reach them. I believe they've introduced short-cuts since then but I do like to hold a grudge).

Anyway, I want a(nother) little trolley to hold Dave, my in/out trays, spindles of discs, biros and notepads and cups of tea. Mum-In-Law bought me a dandy little one from Howard's Storage World for my birthday which holds all my knitting things - it's half laundry hamper and half shelving so it holds current projects and random balls of yarn *and* a nice big pile of knitting books and notes and I love it like a child.

Of course, I will have to have Mum-In-Law take me there. If I go there without her she'll never forgive me as she is quite partial to modular storage solutions but has no need of any herself so must indulge her passion vicariously through me. She'd indulge her passion through 10B too except that being her son he staunchly refuses to play and pointedly endevours to live in a mound of randomly piled Stuff, glaring at anyone who ever suggests he does otherwise.

But I wouldn't be able to get the trolley home by myself anyway, I don't think those little trolley castors are quite sturdy enough for a trip down the Nepean Highway with me lying atop the trolley, pushing it along with a pole, which is how it would have to happen of course.

(Fortunately it's quite fun shopping with Mum-In-Law, coffee and cake is usually involved somewhere along the way as is a general ramble around the monolith that is Southland Shopping Centre.)

People do get quite keen on storage solutions. And you never know who's going to turn out to be a storage-solution-fancier. Recently I mentioned Howard's Storage World to my massage therapist of all people, and at the mere mention of the place she went all dreamy and then repeated it's name and looked like she was about to melt into the floor in a way that I found faintly disturbing.

When Mum-In-Law first told me about Howard's Storage World I thought it sounded like a junk store and her insistence on me browsing a catalogue just seemed kind of weird. I indulged her, I even agreed to hold onto it for a little while to keep her happy but then I found myself looking round the house at things and then looking at the catalogue and just...pondering.

I think I'm starting to understand and I don't mean "understand" in a sympathetic way. I mean "understand" in an empathic way: visceral understanding, like the way I truly understand why a person smiles when they tell you they've been out buying stationery and I smile in recognition.

But I've noticed that the stationery thing doesn't do it for me anymore. I still smile in recognition but my passions are elsewhere and it's really just a friendly, indulgent smile. Because I don't really think paper-fanciers know where it's at. No point having all that paper and all those pens if you don't have a neat little place to store them.

And as soon as I have, my little study will be the perfect place for me to be, all the time.

Pardon me while I melt into the floor.
splodgenoodles: (Lock stock stoner eyes)
[livejournal.com profile] tenbears got back last night, hurrah!

Two nights away, he was. And me without proper couch-enabled internet access. And did I mention the landline kept dropping out too? It's been doing that a lot lately.

And frankly, it's bloody lonely round here without him. Both on the generalised alone stakes and on being sans 10B in particular.

Of course he's off at work now but at least I know he's around.

In other news, I got that email about that clinical trial that I'm hoping to join.

In other, other news, the study still ain't right. This is the room in which I spend most of my time and keep most of my stuff. 10B recently shifted all the heavy bits of furniture and my home-carer packed away a whole lot of things for me, but I still don't have that sense of comfort and convenience when I'm there. I've now got a couch to recline on, the desk and it's mountain o'stuff is no longer the first thing you see from the doorway, but lots of little-but-essential things don't have a suitable place yet. Constant tidying is needed, which means things aren't right. In a well-organised space, things simply don't get that messy that fast.

I think the solution lies in Howard's Storage World. This is the shop for people who are frightened of the Ikea maze or simply want to avoid it on general principles (which is me, ever since the time I walked in through their front door to use the toilet and couldn't get out again without going all the way round because the automatic doors only worked from one side. I could even see the exit doors, mere metres away through the kiddies ball room but it was no use I could not reach them. I believe they've introduced short-cuts since then but I do like to hold a grudge).

Anyway, I want a(nother) little trolley to hold Dave, my in/out trays, spindles of discs, biros and notepads and cups of tea. Mum-In-Law bought me a dandy little one from Howard's Storage World for my birthday which holds all my knitting things - it's half laundry hamper and half shelving so it holds current projects and random balls of yarn *and* a nice big pile of knitting books and notes and I love it like a child.

Of course, I will have to have Mum-In-Law take me there. If I go there without her she'll never forgive me as she is quite partial to modular storage solutions but has no need of any herself so must indulge her passion vicariously through me. She'd indulge her passion through 10B too except that being her son he staunchly refuses to play and pointedly endevours to live in a mound of randomly piled Stuff, glaring at anyone who ever suggests he does otherwise.

But I wouldn't be able to get the trolley home by myself anyway, I don't think those little trolley castors are quite sturdy enough for a trip down the Nepean Highway with me lying atop the trolley, pushing it along with a pole, which is how it would have to happen of course.

(Fortunately it's quite fun shopping with Mum-In-Law, coffee and cake is usually involved somewhere along the way as is a general ramble around the monolith that is Southland Shopping Centre.)

People do get quite keen on storage solutions. And you never know who's going to turn out to be a storage-solution-fancier. Recently I mentioned Howard's Storage World to my massage therapist of all people, and at the mere mention of the place she went all dreamy and then repeated it's name and looked like she was about to melt into the floor in a way that I found faintly disturbing.

When Mum-In-Law first told me about Howard's Storage World I thought it sounded like a junk store and her insistence on me browsing a catalogue just seemed kind of weird. I indulged her, I even agreed to hold onto it for a little while to keep her happy but then I found myself looking round the house at things and then looking at the catalogue and just...pondering.

I think I'm starting to understand and I don't mean "understand" in a sympathetic way. I mean "understand" in an empathic way: visceral understanding, like the way I truly understand why a person smiles when they tell you they've been out buying stationery and I smile in recognition.

But I've noticed that the stationery thing doesn't do it for me anymore. I still smile in recognition but my passions are elsewhere and it's really just a friendly, indulgent smile. Because I don't really think paper-fanciers know where it's at. No point having all that paper and all those pens if you don't have a neat little place to store them.

And as soon as I have, my little study will be the perfect place for me to be, all the time.

Pardon me while I melt into the floor.
splodgenoodles: (Lacey's)
I am never, ever, ever going to reorganise my Piles O'Crap again.

Ever.
splodgenoodles: (Lacey's)
I am never, ever, ever going to reorganise my Piles O'Crap again.

Ever.
splodgenoodles: (Penelope intro)
When I was a kid I used to pray. I liked to start with "Dear God (In Heaven)" (yes, I always thought it in parentheses, I do that quite a bit). I was a fairly uptight child, always worried about things going astray, so I felt compelled to add in His address, just to be on the safe side.

Given I was a monotheist I'm not quite sure where the hell else I thought my prayers would go, but that's what I did.

~~~

So. Anyway. I still have boxes of my folks' now unwanted books. And a cupboard full. We've all pawed through them all and taken all the good ones and I'm now left with the remains.

~~~


Dear God (In Heaven),

What the fuck am I to do with all these books?

They're all about You, do You want them?

The guy from the theology library didn't actually groan out loud when I rang up and asked if they ever accepted donations, but I suspect he groaned as soon as I hung up. He probably banged his head on the desk too, and wished to You that people would understand that just because it's a theology library doesn't mean it's not a professional operation and doesn't mean it wants well meaning donations of trash. Not that that's what I was intending him to feel, as You are no doubt aware, but I suspect that's where his head is at on a Friday afternoon and I failed to anticipate his fragile state of mind and respond accordingly.

BTW, I promise I'll try not to torment anyone like that again.... although if You really wanted me to keep promises like that You could have given me better social skills (and maybe ESP), thanks for nothing.

My next stop will be the local secondhand bookstores but I'm not optimistic. Mostly these days the money's in old school sci-fi and vintage porn and nothing personal but you're neither.

Yeah, yeah, I know about the Song of Solomon and I know about Sodom and Gomorrah but the former is poetry and the latter was a huge disappointment for a repressed teenage girl, and none of this stuff looks to be about that stuff anyway.

Addit.: And arguing that creation + apocalypse is sci fi? I think the local book dealers would argue it's is more in the realm of anthropology and as You well know, no one in my family would be prepared to argue otherwise not even for a joke. And we know You wouldn't either, because You aren't that sort of God. So putting it into my head that I should try arguing that it's really double-plus extra vintage sci-fi (or porn, see above) for the sake of earning a few quid was really rather evil of You. You're tempting me enough with Captain Jack, so kindly lay off on the rest of it.


And You know I can't throw books away, it's a sin. You know that.

So take this burden from me, please?


Amen from Splodge (on Earth, although it's been feeling decidely warm lately...have I been demoted?)



PS. About that other stack of books in the cupboard - the history ones. Every time I try and haul those out at least five more leap out and onto the shelves and I have to put them away in a hurry before the other books get any ideas. We have a house full of unread books already. Enough is enough with the biblio-torment don't you think?
splodgenoodles: (Default)
When I was a kid I used to pray. I liked to start with "Dear God (In Heaven)" (yes, I always thought it in parentheses, I do that quite a bit). I was a fairly uptight child, always worried about things going astray, so I felt compelled to add in His address just to be on the safe side.

Given I was a monotheist I'm not quite sure where the hell else I thought my prayers would go, but that's what I did.

~~~

So. Anyway. I still have boxes of my folks' now unwanted books. And a cupboard full. We've all pawed through them all and taken all the good ones and I'm now left with the remains.

~~~


Dear God (In Heaven),

What the fuck am I to do with all these books?

They're all about You, do You want them?

The guy from the theology library didn't actually groan out loud when I rang up and asked if they ever accepted donations, but I suspect he groaned as soon as I hung up. He probably banged his head on the desk too, and wished to You that people would understand that just because it's a theology library doesn't mean it's not a professional operation and doesn't mean it wants well meaning donations of trash. Not that that's what I was intending him to feel, as You are no doubt aware, but I suspect that's where his head is at on a Friday afternoon and I failed to anticipate his fragile state of mind and respond accordingly.

BTW, I promise I'll try not to torment anyone like that again.... although if You really wanted me to keep promises like that You could have given me better social skills (and maybe ESP), thanks for nothing.

My next stop will be the local secondhand bookstores but I'm not optimistic. Mostly these days the money's in old school sci-fi and vintage porn and nothing personal but you're neither.

Yeah, yeah, I know about the Song of Solomon and I know about Sodom and Gomorrah but the former is poetry and the latter was a huge disappointment for a repressed teenage girl, and none of this stuff looks to be about that stuff anyway.

Addit.: And arguing that creation + apocalypse is sci fi? I think the local book dealers would argue it's is more in the realm of anthropology and as You well know, no one in my family would be prepared to argue otherwise not even for a joke. And we know You wouldn't either, because You aren't that sort of God. So putting it into my head that I should try arguing that it's really double-plus extra vintage sci-fi (or porn, see above) for the sake of earning a few quid was really rather evil of You. You're tempting me enough with Captain Jack, so kindly lay off on the rest of it.


And You know I can't throw books away, it's a sin. You know that.

So take this burden from me, please?


Amen from Splodge (on Earth, although it's been feeling decidely warm lately...have I been demoted?)



PS. About that other stack of books in the cupboard - the history ones. Every time I try and haul those out at least five more leap out and onto the shelves and I have to put them away in a hurry before the other books get any ideas. We have a house full of unread books already. Enough is enough with the biblio-torment don't you think?

Manic.

Jun. 13th, 2007 03:52 pm
splodgenoodles: (Basil Fawlty)
I am overcompensating for my total lack of control over my life by doing all the laundry in the entire world instead.

I try and alternate between tumbledryable loads and drip dries, that way you have less down time while you're waiting for the last load to dry and no, I can't use the clothesline.

It's amazing how the job never actually ends. There is always more laundry to do. Happily, most everyday items that needed washing have gone through and I'm now on to doing particularly satisfying loads of things that sit in the basket for years because they aren't needed and/or they're complicated in some way. They're the sorts of things that only resurface every 18 months or so at about 6 in the afternoon on a Saturday when you're wondering where that nice white shirt has gone, you know, the one you bought only for special occasions like the one you're due at in 45 minutes.

I can't find the Preen (fancy shmancy stuff for the aforementioned white shirt) and very nearly used window cleaner instead, on account of the bottles being almost identical. It wouldn't have mattered too much: it's 10B's shirt, last worn 5 months ago, so he wouldn't notice for another 13 months and I'm sure I could come up with a good explanation for the damage between now and then.

Hell, by then I could tell him *he* did it while I stood there begging him not to.

And now I'm wondering why the hell we have window cleaner on the edge of the bath. Seriously, we do. That's where I found it when I was looking for the Preen.

I guess if I ever finish the laundry I could do a household chemical spraybottle audit. I could map where I've found them and then allocate new, appropriate homes for them all. I may find the Preen this way too, which would be a bonus. And it would be nice to have the rat poison not quite so close to the pine-o-cleen that we use all the time.

But I doubt I will, I doubt I could. I'm increasingly convinced there's no end in sight to the laundry project and it's starting to fail in it's assigned task of giving me a sense of effectiveness and control. As some point I have to reach a major goal.

It doesn't help that 10B is sabotaging me by refusing to go to work naked.

I think he could make more money that way but he says no, in the winter...not quite so much. I mean, he'd still make plenty of course, but we aim to be stinking rich, not just rich, and we don't want to undervalue the product in the meanwhile.



I must go, the washing machine beckons.

Manic.

Jun. 13th, 2007 03:52 pm
splodgenoodles: (Basil Fawlty)
I am overcompensating for my total lack of control over my life by doing all the laundry in the entire world instead.

I try and alternate between tumbledryable loads and drip dries, that way you have less down time while you're waiting for the last load to dry and no, I can't use the clothesline.

It's amazing how the job never actually ends. There is always more laundry to do. Happily, most everyday items that needed washing have gone through and I'm now on to doing particularly satisfying loads of things that sit in the basket for years because they aren't needed and/or they're complicated in some way. They're the sorts of things that only resurface every 18 months or so at about 6 in the afternoon on a Saturday when you're wondering where that nice white shirt has gone, you know, the one you bought only for special occasions like the one you're due at in 45 minutes.

I can't find the Preen (fancy shmancy stuff for the aforementioned white shirt) and very nearly used window cleaner instead, on account of the bottles being almost identical. It wouldn't have mattered too much: it's 10B's shirt, last worn 5 months ago, so he wouldn't notice for another 13 months and I'm sure I could come up with a good explanation for the damage between now and then.

Hell, by then I could tell him *he* did it while I stood there begging him not to.

And now I'm wondering why the hell we have window cleaner on the edge of the bath. Seriously, we do. That's where I found it when I was looking for the Preen.

I guess if I ever finish the laundry I could do a household chemical spraybottle audit. I could map where I've found them and then allocate new, appropriate homes for them all. I may find the Preen this way too, which would be a bonus. And it would be nice to have the rat poison not quite so close to the pine-o-cleen that we use all the time.

But I doubt I will, I doubt I could. I'm increasingly convinced there's no end in sight to the laundry project and it's starting to fail in it's assigned task of giving me a sense of effectiveness and control. As some point I have to reach a major goal.

It doesn't help that 10B is sabotaging me by refusing to go to work naked.

I think he could make more money that way but he says no, in the winter...not quite so much. I mean, he'd still make plenty of course, but we aim to be stinking rich, not just rich, and we don't want to undervalue the product in the meanwhile.



I must go, the washing machine beckons.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
I am being eaten alive by the laundry pile, help!

Feeling totally overwhelmed by the chaos in this house and kind of annoyed at this house being in such a decrepit and structurally disorganised state that tidiness is impossible anyway, help!



What's that you say?

Overcompensating for a sense of having no control over the rest of my life?

Who me?

Whatever would make you think that?

~~~

I want to live in a house that makes sense. It's a huge amount of work just to live in this house and do the basics, I hate that.

I'm not fussy, I'm not looking for a Home Beautiful house. I just want things set up so that living here isn't a constant process of arranging and rearranging and dealing with piles of crap that spring up everywhere because there's no logical place to put things and conking out before I've done the basics because doing the basics involves 15 more actions related to sorting through the chaos that need to be done first or concurrently.

~~~

So now I'm off to organise my stocking drawer. Seriously. I own a drawerful of stockings, tights and pantyhose, 90% black because this is Melbourne and black's compulsory for unfashionable 40 year olds, and now that it's winter (sort of, egads) I've started having conniptions every time I get dressed which these days is most days and while that's a good thing in and of itself, it won't be so good if the most-days leg attire issue sends me stark raving insane.

So:
opaques
not opaques
footless
bottomless (traditionally known as "stockings")
fancy (fishnets etc.)
everything else

Have I left anything out?


I'm also hoping [livejournal.com profile] tenbears will feed me chicken soup. It seems like that sort of night.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
I am being eaten alive by the laundry pile, help!

Feeling totally overwhelmed by the chaos in this house and kind of annoyed at this house being in such a decrepit and structurally disorganised state that tidiness is impossible anyway, help!



What's that you say?

Overcompensating for a sense of having no control over the rest of my life?

Who me?

Whatever would make you think that?

~~~

I want to live in a house that makes sense. It's a huge amount of work just to live in this house and do the basics, I hate that.

I'm not fussy, I'm not looking for a Home Beautiful house. I just want things set up so that living here isn't a constant process of arranging and rearranging and dealing with piles of crap that spring up everywhere because there's no logical place to put things and conking out before I've done the basics because doing the basics involves 15 more actions related to sorting through the chaos that need to be done first or concurrently.

~~~

So now I'm off to organise my stocking drawer. Seriously. I own a drawerful of stockings, tights and pantyhose, 90% black because this is Melbourne and black's compulsory for unfashionable 40 year olds, and now that it's winter (sort of, egads) I've started having conniptions every time I get dressed which these days is most days and while that's a good thing in and of itself, it won't be so good if the most-days leg attire issue sends me stark raving insane.

So:
opaques
not opaques
footless
bottomless (traditionally known as "stockings")
fancy (fishnets etc.)
everything else

Have I left anything out?


I'm also hoping [livejournal.com profile] tenbears will feed me chicken soup. It seems like that sort of night.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
God I hate it when I put things somewhere sensible.

*bangs head repeatedly against wall*

It's almost as bad as when I oh-so-sensibly get rid of stuff I don't "really" need and couldn't possibly ever find another use for.

~~~

In other news, with a bit of luck we'll soon have a new toaster. Yay!

But we're keeping the old one because it's fully automatic, which is kind of a thing for my beloved [livejournal.com profile] tenbears on account of having one (or maybe not having one and feeling deprived, I can't remember) when he was a child. This fully automatic toaster is only a couple of years old. It stopped working a few months ago now and preliminary research has revealed that they are not easily repaired and that Sunbeam has stopped making them.

It seems the fully automatic toaster was simply Sunbeam's once-off contribution to the novelty/nostalgic Christmas gifts market one year, because as soon as they appeared on the market after an absence of maybe two decades, they just as soon disappeared because Sunbeam stopped making them.

We have found one establishment that's prepared 'to have a go' in the fixing department. They're about a 90 minute drive away. (And no, *you* can't touch it, so don't offer and don't ask.)

In the meanwhile we need toast, so my poor [livejournal.com profile] tenbears is out buying a toaster of the mundane throcking variety. Later he will come home and forlornly put his beloved automatic toaster back in its special box and keep it somewhere safe until he can make the trip out to Woop-Woop, and every time he makes toast he will glare at the throcking toaster and probably sulk.

My life. It's a rich tapestry. Really.
splodgenoodles: (Default)
God I hate it when I put things somewhere sensible.

*bangs head repeatedly against wall*

It's almost as bad as when I oh-so-sensibly get rid of stuff I don't "really" need and couldn't possibly ever find another use for.

~~~

In other news, with a bit of luck we'll soon have a new toaster. Yay!

But we're keeping the old one because it's fully automatic, which is kind of a thing for my beloved [livejournal.com profile] tenbears on account of having one (or maybe not having one and feeling deprived, I can't remember) when he was a child. This fully automatic toaster is only a couple of years old. It stopped working a few months ago now and preliminary research has revealed that they are not easily repaired and that Sunbeam has stopped making them.

It seems the fully automatic toaster was simply Sunbeam's once-off contribution to the novelty/nostalgic Christmas gifts market one year, because as soon as they appeared on the market after an absence of maybe two decades, they just as soon disappeared because Sunbeam stopped making them.

We have found one establishment that's prepared 'to have a go' in the fixing department. They're about a 90 minute drive away. (And no, *you* can't touch it, so don't offer and don't ask.)

In the meanwhile we need toast, so my poor [livejournal.com profile] tenbears is out buying a toaster of the mundane throcking variety. Later he will come home and forlornly put his beloved automatic toaster back in its special box and keep it somewhere safe until he can make the trip out to Woop-Woop, and every time he makes toast he will glare at the throcking toaster and probably sulk.

My life. It's a rich tapestry. Really.
splodgenoodles: (Lady Penelope's car.)
Rest of Sunday consisted of washing of hair and rest of self, and hopefully not zoning out too seriously while guests lolled about the living room. Had pancakes with a rip-snorting apricot sauce.

Monday consists of pulling oneself together in time to be wheeled around a nearby hospital for my bi-annual bone density test. The place is just a bit too big and unfamiliar for me to risk doing it on foot especially given I've been pushing it a bit today. Don't know yet whether my care people have got a carer sorted or not - email request has not yet been answered - so I've lined up Mum-In-Law as well... gee she's a long suffering soul.

I think I'm about to go on an austerity drive. Business is slow, we are spending money on the house right now as well, and I've hit that point where you just start to fret about it all and feel it's all just a bit too much outside of your control. However, our living room is driving me batshit and I suspect this will only stop with a liberal application of ghastly IKEA modular furniture, or some really good luck in the secondhand stakes. I'm hoping for the latter.

It's really more about spending money where I actually want it to go, rather than let it slip through my fingers for no reason.

Maybe some wonderful person will hire [livejournal.com profile] tenbears to haul away some sort of non-horrific wall unit that everything fits into perfectly...

A noodle can dream, can't she?

Yes. Yes apparently she can.
splodgenoodles: (Lady Penelope's car.)
Rest of Sunday consisted of washing of hair and rest of self, and hopefully not zoning out too seriously while guests lolled about the living room. Had pancakes with a rip-snorting apricot sauce.

Monday consists of pulling oneself together in time to be wheeled around a nearby hospital for my bi-annual bone density test. The place is just a bit too big and unfamiliar for me to risk doing it on foot especially given I've been pushing it a bit today. Don't know yet whether my care people have got a carer sorted or not - email request has not yet been answered - so I've lined up Mum-In-Law as well... gee she's a long suffering soul.

I think I'm about to go on an austerity drive. Business is slow, we are spending money on the house right now as well, and I've hit that point where you just start to fret about it all and feel it's all just a bit too much outside of your control. However, our living room is driving me batshit and I suspect this will only stop with a liberal application of ghastly IKEA modular furniture, or some really good luck in the secondhand stakes. I'm hoping for the latter.

It's really more about spending money where I actually want it to go, rather than let it slip through my fingers for no reason.

Maybe some wonderful person will hire [livejournal.com profile] tenbears to haul away some sort of non-horrific wall unit that everything fits into perfectly...

A noodle can dream, can't she?

Yes. Yes apparently she can.

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