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?

whaaaaaa

Jun. 28th, 2007 04:12 pm
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Okay, now I just have to remember to breathe.

The scooter salesguy and the Occupational Therapist turned up right on time, which was fine, and much phafing(faphing?) occured as planned, but then 10 minutes into our discussions the path nurse turned up as well - I thought she was due after 5.

For fuck's sake I only had two appointments here this week! They would have to happen all at once. But that always happens with pathology nurses - I'm convinced they wait outside all day until they see someone else arrive.

And as well as a blood test there were wires to be attached as well. (I'm having a 24 hour holter monitor thing.) So I was profusely apologising to scooterman and OT and worrying because I really *needed* to be paying attention given they were discussing what would and would not be appropriate for me at the same time as I was being asked to take my top off and such. There was much running back and forth on my part and trying to take in information from various sources and stuff and when things like this happen I suddenly remember why I live like a hermit. Multitasking is too hard and I don't like it even though my customary response is to make a lot of jokes and giggle. Nor do I like getting all worked up and running round like a chicken without a head.

And speaking of heads, mine just went boom. I feel strangely upset. Not giggling now.

Going now. Going to wibble in the kitchen for a bit.

Maybe there'll be muffins.

whaaaaaa

Jun. 28th, 2007 04:12 pm
splodgenoodles: (Default)
Okay, now I just have to remember to breathe.

The scooter salesguy and the Occupational Therapist turned up right on time, which was fine, and much phafing(faphing?) occured as planned, but then 10 minutes into our discussions the path nurse turned up as well - I thought she was due after 5.

For fuck's sake I only had two appointments here this week! They would have to happen all at once. But that always happens with pathology nurses - I'm convinced they wait outside all day until they see someone else arrive.

And as well as a blood test there were wires to be attached as well. (I'm having a 24 hour holter monitor thing.) So I was profusely apologising to scooterman and OT and worrying because I really *needed* to be paying attention given they were discussing what would and would not be appropriate for me at the same time as I was being asked to take my top off and such. There was much running back and forth on my part and trying to take in information from various sources and stuff and when things like this happen I suddenly remember why I live like a hermit. Multitasking is too hard and I don't like it even though my customary response is to make a lot of jokes and giggle. Nor do I like getting all worked up and running round like a chicken without a head.

And speaking of heads, mine just went boom. I feel strangely upset. Not giggling now.

Going now. Going to wibble in the kitchen for a bit.

Maybe there'll be muffins.

Insomnia

Feb. 18th, 2007 06:38 am
splodgenoodles: (angry moomintroll)
Every so often you see those annoyingly smarmy articles on how to get a restful night's sleep and there's always a sentence in there somewhere that goes something like:

"Studies show that most people underestimate the amount of sleep they get. Usually, when people say they've not had a wink all night, they are not actually correct."

I'm the reason they have to say "usually".

~~~

First time I read one of those articles I was a teenager, I think it was in a Reader's Digest.

They haven't changed since then, and they still refer to unspecified studies to back up their claims. I'm not saying their claims aren't true, but I wonder if the non-referenced research studies are the same ones, because that would make them at least 30 years old (these were old copies of the Digest bought at a fete for casual reading at a holiday house). And this begs the question of how those studies would match up with ones done more recently. I wonder if that stuff is now so ingrained in the popular psyche that underestimating one's sleep is still that common.

After all, I overestimated my sleep at one point so that doctors wouldn't think I was being an hysterical coward.

Of course, then I realised that they probably thought I was underestimating anyway and were adding four hours onto the four hours I lied about having and writing in my file that I was a complete nimrod. Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. I blame the brainfog.

I tried to go back to underestimating hours just like the scientifically proven normal population, but I couldn't work out how to do a negative.

~~~

'Cranky' might belong right after 'content' on the mood list, but I really think there should be something in between to avoid embarrassing early morning errors. Could be quite misleading.

~~~

Insomnia

Feb. 18th, 2007 06:38 am
splodgenoodles: (angry moomintroll)
Every so often you see those annoyingly smarmy articles on how to get a restful night's sleep and there's always a sentence in there somewhere that goes something like:

"Studies show that most people underestimate the amount of sleep they get. Usually, when people say they've not had a wink all night, they are not actually correct."

I'm the reason they have to say "usually".

~~~

First time I read one of those articles I was a teenager, I think it was in a Reader's Digest.

They haven't changed since then, and they still refer to unspecified studies to back up their claims. I'm not saying their claims aren't true, but I wonder if the non-referenced research studies are the same ones, because that would make them at least 30 years old (these were old copies of the Digest bought at a fete for casual reading at a holiday house). And this begs the question of how those studies would match up with ones done more recently. I wonder if that stuff is now so ingrained in the popular psyche that underestimating one's sleep is still that common.

After all, I overestimated my sleep at one point so that doctors wouldn't think I was being an hysterical coward.

Of course, then I realised that they probably thought I was underestimating anyway and were adding four hours onto the four hours I lied about having and writing in my file that I was a complete nimrod. Talk about shooting yourself in the foot. I blame the brainfog.

I tried to go back to underestimating hours just like the scientifically proven normal population, but I couldn't work out how to do a negative.

~~~

'Cranky' might belong right after 'content' on the mood list, but I really think there should be something in between to avoid embarrassing early morning errors. Could be quite misleading.

~~~
splodgenoodles: (Lacey's)
Today's carer (not one I've had for housework before) is working like a whirlwind in the kitchen.

Which would be great except I've *asked* her to stop. I've got other things I want her to do and 10B and I decided ages ago that the stress of other people dicking round in his kitchen far outweighs any benefit from their work. The kitchen is his domain, he knows where everything is and he likes it that way.

The only kitchen stuff that other people can helpfully do is empty the kitty litter and the various bins and mop the floor occasionally. Oh and there's one shelf that holds books which can be safely dusted. But anything that's actually kitchen, anything that's about food preparation and serving, is out of bounds.

The first time I asked her she said it was okay, she'll just do this little bit...then the second time she said it's okay, she's just cleaning around stuff...

I just asked her again and she said no - because she just had to clean out that little corner there so she could put the compost bucket back where it came from (emptying the compost bucket is on her list of things to do).

In other words, she's fucking determined that this is the work that needs doing and that's that.

She's worse than my Dad. At one point, things with Dad got so bad that whenever we went on holidays, [livejournal.com profile] tenbears would hide his cast iron fry pan and pray Dad wouldn't find it but we'd still come home to find the frypan red with rust on the dishdrainer.

~~~

I'm so over having carers. I mean, I like this woman well enough and it's kind of funny, but only because she'll be gone in five minutes and probably won't be back.

~~~~

Postscript:
15 minutes after her departure I looked up to see [livejournal.com profile] tenbears peering round the door, saucer-eyed.

"Is she gone?"

It seems she's the sole reason he spent the last hour or so in the shed.

We went into the kitchen and giggled for a bit and agreed she was a woman of strong opinion in matters of domestic hygiene.

Although I must say, she did do a very good job and did not, in fact, do any of the sorts of things that make his life particularly hard. And she didn't insist on washing the cast-iron frypan.
splodgenoodles: (Lacey's)
Today's carer (not one I've had for housework before) is working like a whirlwind in the kitchen.

Which would be great except I've *asked* her to stop. I've got other things I want her to do and 10B and I decided ages ago that the stress of other people dicking round in his kitchen far outweighs any benefit from their work. The kitchen is his domain, he knows where everything is and he likes it that way.

The only kitchen stuff that other people can helpfully do is empty the kitty litter and the various bins and mop the floor occasionally. Oh and there's one shelf that holds books which can be safely dusted. But anything that's actually kitchen, anything that's about food preparation and serving, is out of bounds.

The first time I asked her she said it was okay, she'll just do this little bit...then the second time she said it's okay, she's just cleaning around stuff...

I just asked her again and she said no - because she just had to clean out that little corner there so she could put the compost bucket back where it came from (emptying the compost bucket is on her list of things to do).

In other words, she's fucking determined that this is the work that needs doing and that's that.

She's worse than my Dad. At one point, things with Dad got so bad that whenever we went on holidays, [livejournal.com profile] tenbears would hide his cast iron fry pan and pray Dad wouldn't find it but we'd still come home to find the frypan red with rust on the dishdrainer.

~~~

I'm so over having carers. I mean, I like this woman well enough and it's kind of funny, but only because she'll be gone in five minutes and probably won't be back.

~~~~

Postscript:
15 minutes after her departure I looked up to see [livejournal.com profile] tenbears peering round the door, saucer-eyed.

"Is she gone?"

It seems she's the sole reason he spent the last hour or so in the shed.

We went into the kitchen and giggled for a bit and agreed she was a woman of strong opinion in matters of domestic hygiene.

Although I must say, she did do a very good job and did not, in fact, do any of the sorts of things that make his life particularly hard. And she didn't insist on washing the cast-iron frypan.

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