I am feeling really low and I don't know why, although I can hazard a guess or two. I took my daughter to Portsmouth flat hunting, 4 weeks ago now I think, and it set off an M.E flare which is lingering. Have given in to it for a few days and done nothing apart from walking Milo and cooking tea, but its proving to be persistent, and I have to carry on. It sucks.
October is the month my first grandchild should have been born and this weighs heavily on my mind despite trying not to dwell on it too much. I worry about my son and daughter in law and feel just as helpless now as I did when I had the devaststing news that our bump had died. He was their one and only chance with an egg donor, life is unfair.
My daughter has gone to uni, I may be suffering from empty nest syndrome, despite the fact we still have our son at home and daughter seemed to be so rarely here we classed our house as a hotel.
I also think I am lonely. I miss my Dads company despite the fact he died 4 years ago. I need to find me an old person to look after to give my life a bit of focus.
Tuesday 4 October 2016
Wednesday 14 September 2016
Where's me cuppa?!
When I was a dental nurse I used to look on in envy at the receptionists sipping tea or maybe looking through a clothes catalogue in a leisurely manner. What a life I used to grumble to the dentist as I was dashing around stocking up the surgery, getting xrays developed, getting patients into the surgery, clearing up and sterilizing and bagging up instruments.
Well, my health hasn't been too good this year so I decided, after much thought to give up nursing and try my hand at being a happy, smiley receptionist instead.
I don't know what has gone wrong, I really don't. Well, I can pin it down actually, its the patients, they keep appearing. I have worked two mornings and one afternoon this week, and I am having a really hard time believing its only wednesday! If I drank alcohol I think I would have a real problem by now with the amount I would have to consume to calm the stress.
Monday started out routinely enough, except the usual receptionist was ill, so my daughter had been drafted in, despite finishing the previous Friday in preparation for a new life at uni. I had a bit of ordering to do, so when people asked my name, I said "Annabel" just in case I had made mistakes, and therefore couldn't be located. A previous receptionist covered the afternoon with the normal, quite new girl who does reception and nursing.
Tuesday, oh, theres a bit of paperwork left over, and a pile of cards with messages on. First 15 minutes was fine, and I realise why now - first appointment is 9am, so the patients appear at reception around 9.10. We have 3 surgeries, so if the first patient is a check up thats 3 sets of forms to get signed, 3 lots of money to take and record, and 3 new appointments to make. We are not computerised, so we have to write on the back of the record card the amount and method of payment, write the patients name and dentist number on all receipts, write the date of their next appointment on the front of the record card and on the patients appointment card and then fill out the forms. When the pile is of reasonable size, a foot maybe, we have to put the cards and forms into alphabetical order, enter names into a folder and then pass everything to the relevant dentist to be signed. Everything then comes back to the desk, record cards to be filed and forms to be sent off. As I am typing this I realise how flippin archaeic it all is. Most practices are computerized which cuts the work down to taking money, making appointments and printing everything else.
The pile of paperwork by the end of Tuesday morning was mounting. No panic, we will cope. The afternoon receptionist sent me a text to say that the afternoon had produced more paperwork than they could cope with and she was sorry. Its like the never emptying porridge pot, it won't be long before we are drowning in paper and cards. So far this week I haven't had time to think about a cup of tea, let alone get as far as the kettle.
Wednesday, thats today, although I feel as though I have worked for 3 weeks straight already! Had the morning off as my daughter left for uni. That in itself has generated a humungous pile of old clothes, books, shoes plus rubbish to be sorted through. I will skip the leaving bit. Although I joke about 3 down, 1 to go, I am sad. The offspring left at home is male and when he makes an appearance to reassure us he hasn't died in front of his pc it is brief. I will miss my daughters girly mind! Having to watch things like Teen Mom, Keeping up with the Kardashians and various netflix box sets is now a think of the past. Not such a bad thing actually.
Into work, more cards, more patients. Of course, you get the families in during the afternoons. I just can't bear to say anymore, I really can't. We now have the leaning tower of Pisa on the desk. I think we would have more chance of clearing it if it was the leaning tower of pizza! At least we could give some of it away!
I just don't know how the previous receptionists did it. Maybe I am talking to the patients too much. Must stop being hapoy and smiley, although stressed and panicky is rapidly taking over. My mantra by thd end of the day was "go away and don't talk to me" ......
Well, my health hasn't been too good this year so I decided, after much thought to give up nursing and try my hand at being a happy, smiley receptionist instead.
I don't know what has gone wrong, I really don't. Well, I can pin it down actually, its the patients, they keep appearing. I have worked two mornings and one afternoon this week, and I am having a really hard time believing its only wednesday! If I drank alcohol I think I would have a real problem by now with the amount I would have to consume to calm the stress.
Monday started out routinely enough, except the usual receptionist was ill, so my daughter had been drafted in, despite finishing the previous Friday in preparation for a new life at uni. I had a bit of ordering to do, so when people asked my name, I said "Annabel" just in case I had made mistakes, and therefore couldn't be located. A previous receptionist covered the afternoon with the normal, quite new girl who does reception and nursing.
Tuesday, oh, theres a bit of paperwork left over, and a pile of cards with messages on. First 15 minutes was fine, and I realise why now - first appointment is 9am, so the patients appear at reception around 9.10. We have 3 surgeries, so if the first patient is a check up thats 3 sets of forms to get signed, 3 lots of money to take and record, and 3 new appointments to make. We are not computerised, so we have to write on the back of the record card the amount and method of payment, write the patients name and dentist number on all receipts, write the date of their next appointment on the front of the record card and on the patients appointment card and then fill out the forms. When the pile is of reasonable size, a foot maybe, we have to put the cards and forms into alphabetical order, enter names into a folder and then pass everything to the relevant dentist to be signed. Everything then comes back to the desk, record cards to be filed and forms to be sent off. As I am typing this I realise how flippin archaeic it all is. Most practices are computerized which cuts the work down to taking money, making appointments and printing everything else.
The pile of paperwork by the end of Tuesday morning was mounting. No panic, we will cope. The afternoon receptionist sent me a text to say that the afternoon had produced more paperwork than they could cope with and she was sorry. Its like the never emptying porridge pot, it won't be long before we are drowning in paper and cards. So far this week I haven't had time to think about a cup of tea, let alone get as far as the kettle.
Wednesday, thats today, although I feel as though I have worked for 3 weeks straight already! Had the morning off as my daughter left for uni. That in itself has generated a humungous pile of old clothes, books, shoes plus rubbish to be sorted through. I will skip the leaving bit. Although I joke about 3 down, 1 to go, I am sad. The offspring left at home is male and when he makes an appearance to reassure us he hasn't died in front of his pc it is brief. I will miss my daughters girly mind! Having to watch things like Teen Mom, Keeping up with the Kardashians and various netflix box sets is now a think of the past. Not such a bad thing actually.
Into work, more cards, more patients. Of course, you get the families in during the afternoons. I just can't bear to say anymore, I really can't. We now have the leaning tower of Pisa on the desk. I think we would have more chance of clearing it if it was the leaning tower of pizza! At least we could give some of it away!
I just don't know how the previous receptionists did it. Maybe I am talking to the patients too much. Must stop being hapoy and smiley, although stressed and panicky is rapidly taking over. My mantra by thd end of the day was "go away and don't talk to me" ......
Tuesday 6 September 2016
Bollox day
Feeling crap. Took daughter to Portsmouth on Saturday flat hunting. I knew it would make me ill but tbh it was a case of doing it to save all of our sanity! Less said about it all the better, suffice to say daughter is off to uni and decided with 5 weeks to go that she didn't want to live in halls, her and boyfriend were moving in together. One bed flats are like gold dust and disappear the minute the details reach the letting agent. When you live over 140 miles away and can only view on Saturdays you don't stand much chance. Anyway, the deed is done, assuming all the checks are clear, and we can all relax, for a few months anyway!
Anyway, bastard dog needs to go out, no matter how I feel, and because he will only go out with me there is no other choice. Getting a bit fed up of going to the common so decided to go around the houses and on to the park.
Dog whinged and whined whilst I had breakfast and a cuppa and shredded yet more of the stick he brought home yesterday. The floor is covered in bits of wood and dead slipper, to be cleared up later!
He was pretty well behaved on the lead for once, no pulling and trying to race ahead like a steam train. Got to the wildlife area of the park, no more than 2 minutes in and bastard had found a whopping pile of fox poo to lather himself in. I despair, I really do. Warned a man walking his dog not to try stroking him, not that Milo lets people near anyway. Oh its easy enough to wash them said the man who's dog obviously never rolls. When you feel like crap and have to do it on a regular basis its not flippin easy.
Right, carry on, muttering to myself, along the river, or in the river if you are Milo. Run around like a lunatic in the long grass, which always puts a smile on my face. I have to admit, its not me running in the grass, after 4 children my bladder is like a seive! Milo did have a good run with a couple of dogs and I decided to take him further to try and really use up what energy he had left. He was puffing and panting and again good on the lead. Came to a bit I could let him off the lead again as it was away from the road so he had freedom again. So much for the calm dog, all I am going to say is cat. Might add bastard again for good measure!
Its husbands birthday tomorrow so I have made a cake. Not quite as big a cake as planned, but a cake nonetheless. As I was putting the cake tin in the oven I accidentally touched the red hot rack. The instant reaction is to withdraw your hand quickly, which I did, dropping the cake tin as I did. Before I could yell "bluddy hell thats hot" bastard had his tongue around the falling mixture, lapping up as much as he could before the 3 second rule could take effect. I think I might already have said I despair, but I really do....
My lounge floor, which I have cleared and hoovered, is now littered with bits of (madly) torn up paper, formerly flat details and an electoral roll letter left on the side table, and a plastic lidl carrier bag, stolen from the kitchen. Anyone want a manic, shit rolling, seemingly untrainable dog?
Anyway, bastard dog needs to go out, no matter how I feel, and because he will only go out with me there is no other choice. Getting a bit fed up of going to the common so decided to go around the houses and on to the park.
Dog whinged and whined whilst I had breakfast and a cuppa and shredded yet more of the stick he brought home yesterday. The floor is covered in bits of wood and dead slipper, to be cleared up later!
He was pretty well behaved on the lead for once, no pulling and trying to race ahead like a steam train. Got to the wildlife area of the park, no more than 2 minutes in and bastard had found a whopping pile of fox poo to lather himself in. I despair, I really do. Warned a man walking his dog not to try stroking him, not that Milo lets people near anyway. Oh its easy enough to wash them said the man who's dog obviously never rolls. When you feel like crap and have to do it on a regular basis its not flippin easy.
Right, carry on, muttering to myself, along the river, or in the river if you are Milo. Run around like a lunatic in the long grass, which always puts a smile on my face. I have to admit, its not me running in the grass, after 4 children my bladder is like a seive! Milo did have a good run with a couple of dogs and I decided to take him further to try and really use up what energy he had left. He was puffing and panting and again good on the lead. Came to a bit I could let him off the lead again as it was away from the road so he had freedom again. So much for the calm dog, all I am going to say is cat. Might add bastard again for good measure!
Its husbands birthday tomorrow so I have made a cake. Not quite as big a cake as planned, but a cake nonetheless. As I was putting the cake tin in the oven I accidentally touched the red hot rack. The instant reaction is to withdraw your hand quickly, which I did, dropping the cake tin as I did. Before I could yell "bluddy hell thats hot" bastard had his tongue around the falling mixture, lapping up as much as he could before the 3 second rule could take effect. I think I might already have said I despair, but I really do....
My lounge floor, which I have cleared and hoovered, is now littered with bits of (madly) torn up paper, formerly flat details and an electoral roll letter left on the side table, and a plastic lidl carrier bag, stolen from the kitchen. Anyone want a manic, shit rolling, seemingly untrainable dog?
Thursday 1 September 2016
Day care relief
Thursday is doggie day care day. It is a day for me to be able to shop, and leave the front door open whilst I bring said shopping into the house. It also means I can leave the bags on the floor without them being raided by the dog who is convinced he is starving, all the time. He hurls himself into a bag, grabbing whatever his teeth clamp onto first, and high tails it off into the lounge as if he was an SAS operative home from a highly successful mission.
Before day care we had a system, dog was shut in the kitchen via the stairgate, husband brought the shopping in, handed it to me over the gate and I, in turn hefted it over another stairgate which shuts off the utility room. Oh, two stairgates I hear you say, how inconvenient. Actually its three, we have one at the foot of the stairs too, initially put there to allow the cat space for herself without the risk of being eaten alive. A Milo free zone is a precious commodity in this house!
Thursdays is now the only day my guinea pigs can go out into their run without being terrorised. Basterd dog runs round and round the run frantically gnawing at the bars whilst my poor piggies cower in terror under their plant pots. My last dog ignored them completely, so they lived a life of luxury, with free reign of the garden and coming and going as they pleased. Poor things are now locked up most of the time.
Man, he's a terror, still! He vandalises the house and furniture, digs up the grass, jumps up at the kitchen sides, still tries to eat shoes, bags, coats, if its left out its fair game. He has decided he has learned enough commands for his liking, and any negative ones certainly dont apply to him. He is 2yrs old next month and shows no signs of calming down, or behaving!
Would we do it again? Nope. Do we wish we hadn't had him? Often! Do we love him? Unconditionally, daft sods that we are!
Before day care we had a system, dog was shut in the kitchen via the stairgate, husband brought the shopping in, handed it to me over the gate and I, in turn hefted it over another stairgate which shuts off the utility room. Oh, two stairgates I hear you say, how inconvenient. Actually its three, we have one at the foot of the stairs too, initially put there to allow the cat space for herself without the risk of being eaten alive. A Milo free zone is a precious commodity in this house!
Thursdays is now the only day my guinea pigs can go out into their run without being terrorised. Basterd dog runs round and round the run frantically gnawing at the bars whilst my poor piggies cower in terror under their plant pots. My last dog ignored them completely, so they lived a life of luxury, with free reign of the garden and coming and going as they pleased. Poor things are now locked up most of the time.
Man, he's a terror, still! He vandalises the house and furniture, digs up the grass, jumps up at the kitchen sides, still tries to eat shoes, bags, coats, if its left out its fair game. He has decided he has learned enough commands for his liking, and any negative ones certainly dont apply to him. He is 2yrs old next month and shows no signs of calming down, or behaving!
Would we do it again? Nope. Do we wish we hadn't had him? Often! Do we love him? Unconditionally, daft sods that we are!
Tuesday 2 August 2016
Its a dogs life
Dog: Where is she? I've been up ages and I know she jasn't snuck out of the house, no-one gets past me and my super powers. Oh come on, it's been ages and ages and ages since I got up. Wait! I hear a noise! Thats her, on the stairs, yayyyy, must rush to greet her. Ooh, ooh, pick up something to take with me, bone, that'll do. Must act cool, make her know I am displeased with the wait. *jumps up then runs in circles* you're here, wahooo. Come cuddle me on the settee. Hang on, that's my bone, give it back, blummin cheek.
Oh no, does she really have to eat, oh, nougat pillow, don't mind if I do. Come on then, lets go. *paces, jumps onto settee and starts to chew pillow* Works every time! Go on upstairs, do your teeth. *whine, whine, little howl" omg where has she gone, she's been hours. Why does she always disappear for so long. She's gone, left me all alone, what will I do without her *howl, howl, whine* SHE IS BACK, I knew she'd never leave me, omg, I am so happeee, she's here and she has shoes on. I can't wait, so excited, so happy, I must leap about to show her I am pleased to see her. Leads on, doors opening. It's raining, oh I love the rain, lets go, lets go.
I love running in the rain, in fact I just love running. I love running in mud, in ponds, in long grass, short grass, on paths, in woods. Its been a good walk and I am wet, but I love that too, I give off such a glorious smell. Happy to be in the car, I get dried and she doesn't realise I go throough her pockets whilst she's making me all snug.
Home, yayy. Where's my carrot? Must spread out on the settee and relax. Where is she? She knows I can't eat my carrot until she's with me ............ *farts*
Me: Really want a lie in. ME is playing up big time and I am struggling to control it. Freya is kneading my neck and miaowing, asking for her breakfast. No peace for the wicked. * Gets up, feeds cat and forgets about lie in.* Milo is having a mild excitement attack as if he hasn't seen me for months. Sit on the settee with him and try to take his bone which I thought he was offering me, but obviously he wasn't. Pour out my cereal, all the time knowing I am being watched eagerly. Give in and give Milo a nougat pillow. Sit down for breakfast and a cuppa. Flippin dog is getting impatient s usual. Really don't want to do the dog walk today cos its raining and feel yuk. Milo starts to chew the cushion on the settee, he can be such a b*sturd!
Go upstairs to do my teeth, and think I may as well clean the en suite whilst I am here. Milo is creating downstairs, whining and howling. For heavens sake, I've only been gone 5 minutes or so, no chance of cleaning main bathroom as well then. Go downstairs to be greeted by one very excited dog, get raincoat on and out into the typically english summer rain!
Drive to the common and check I have poo bags and treats in my pockets, then find the hole Milo created in the right hand pocket, rendering it useless. Milo doesn't care its raining, he just loves life. I don't know how he coped being shut up in a small run with 4 other dogs in the Greek shelter. Once he is off the lead he just runs and runs, its a joy to watch, and almost makes up for the fact he can be such a pain in the arse. I am soaked. My raincoat isn't really! I can feel the water running along my arm, and where the coat finishes, all the water collects and runs onto my jeggings. My trainers are soaked, along with my socks and my hood is directing the rainwater down the side of my face. Forty minutes later Milo is still happily running, and I am drenched! Get back to the car and dry him off with the aquatowel. Its brilliant, bit like a chamois for dogs and gets him lovely and dry. Step away from the boot of the car and notice the contents of my coat pocket spread about the road!
Home. Milo runs in and jumps onto the settee. I go into utility room, hang up wet coat and battle to take off my sopping trainers. Peel off my jeggings and socks and as I pass through the kitchen take a carrot out of the fridge for Milo. Give him carrot and head upstairs for dry clothes. Come back down and he's waiting for me cos he won't eat it without me for some reason. Sit on the settee in the small gap he's left. Dog eats his carrot, stretches out a bit more so he's lying on me, and farts!
Oh no, does she really have to eat, oh, nougat pillow, don't mind if I do. Come on then, lets go. *paces, jumps onto settee and starts to chew pillow* Works every time! Go on upstairs, do your teeth. *whine, whine, little howl" omg where has she gone, she's been hours. Why does she always disappear for so long. She's gone, left me all alone, what will I do without her *howl, howl, whine* SHE IS BACK, I knew she'd never leave me, omg, I am so happeee, she's here and she has shoes on. I can't wait, so excited, so happy, I must leap about to show her I am pleased to see her. Leads on, doors opening. It's raining, oh I love the rain, lets go, lets go.
I love running in the rain, in fact I just love running. I love running in mud, in ponds, in long grass, short grass, on paths, in woods. Its been a good walk and I am wet, but I love that too, I give off such a glorious smell. Happy to be in the car, I get dried and she doesn't realise I go throough her pockets whilst she's making me all snug.
Home, yayy. Where's my carrot? Must spread out on the settee and relax. Where is she? She knows I can't eat my carrot until she's with me ............ *farts*
Me: Really want a lie in. ME is playing up big time and I am struggling to control it. Freya is kneading my neck and miaowing, asking for her breakfast. No peace for the wicked. * Gets up, feeds cat and forgets about lie in.* Milo is having a mild excitement attack as if he hasn't seen me for months. Sit on the settee with him and try to take his bone which I thought he was offering me, but obviously he wasn't. Pour out my cereal, all the time knowing I am being watched eagerly. Give in and give Milo a nougat pillow. Sit down for breakfast and a cuppa. Flippin dog is getting impatient s usual. Really don't want to do the dog walk today cos its raining and feel yuk. Milo starts to chew the cushion on the settee, he can be such a b*sturd!
Go upstairs to do my teeth, and think I may as well clean the en suite whilst I am here. Milo is creating downstairs, whining and howling. For heavens sake, I've only been gone 5 minutes or so, no chance of cleaning main bathroom as well then. Go downstairs to be greeted by one very excited dog, get raincoat on and out into the typically english summer rain!
Drive to the common and check I have poo bags and treats in my pockets, then find the hole Milo created in the right hand pocket, rendering it useless. Milo doesn't care its raining, he just loves life. I don't know how he coped being shut up in a small run with 4 other dogs in the Greek shelter. Once he is off the lead he just runs and runs, its a joy to watch, and almost makes up for the fact he can be such a pain in the arse. I am soaked. My raincoat isn't really! I can feel the water running along my arm, and where the coat finishes, all the water collects and runs onto my jeggings. My trainers are soaked, along with my socks and my hood is directing the rainwater down the side of my face. Forty minutes later Milo is still happily running, and I am drenched! Get back to the car and dry him off with the aquatowel. Its brilliant, bit like a chamois for dogs and gets him lovely and dry. Step away from the boot of the car and notice the contents of my coat pocket spread about the road!
Home. Milo runs in and jumps onto the settee. I go into utility room, hang up wet coat and battle to take off my sopping trainers. Peel off my jeggings and socks and as I pass through the kitchen take a carrot out of the fridge for Milo. Give him carrot and head upstairs for dry clothes. Come back down and he's waiting for me cos he won't eat it without me for some reason. Sit on the settee in the small gap he's left. Dog eats his carrot, stretches out a bit more so he's lying on me, and farts!
Monday 1 August 2016
One hung low
The dog has had my new bra off the washing line and massacred it. My husband brought it in with the immortal words "you shouldn't leave things hanging down on the line!" Now I know I can be a bit dim sometimes, but I am sure that is the point of a washing line. The dog obviously sees it as a play thing, especially put there for him, he tears up the grass underneath it and plays tug of war with the things hanging from it. Why? Why didn't we have a normal dog instead of this into everything whether your back is turned or not bad, bad beast? Its not that we don't discipline him, the b*st*rd just doesn't listen and doesn't care! He is currently demolishing a football on the lounge carpet, but is occupied for a minute or two!
Wednesday 27 July 2016
Hairy moments
How do women who wear glasses manage to pluck their eyebrows? Don't want to be discriminatory here, so how do men who wear glasses pluck their eyebrows too? A long time ago, in a galaxy far away and a time before elder daughter left for uni never to return, she used to do it for me. I lived in fear of looking in the mirror afterwards and finding they had disappeared, or turned into zigzag patterns. Maybe a crop circle or two magically appeared in place of eyebrows. To be fair, she did stick to my instructions of only plucking the stray ones under the brows, and I took a Bic (razor, not pen) down the gap between each eyebrow to complete the job.
That was pre the year 2000 and slowly, bit by bit I am looking more cavewoman than couture. My younger daughter never took the mantle over, but likes to point out that my eyebrows need "doing". No, she likes to gasp in horror as she spots the occasional grey hair, demanding that she pull it out. After pulling a handful of brown hairs she declares she can't get it, leaving a nice bald patch with one solitary grey hair stuck up in the middle of it.
After yet another mention of the brows I thought I would take matters into my own hands and try the job myself. I got up close to the mirror, and almost gasped in horror myself! To my half bespectacled eye it looks like my right eyebrow has decided to be a side burn instead and try and join my hairline. For heavens sake! Is this what happens to women when they reach a certain age? I know of beards and moustaches, and await mine with a certain amount of glee, but sideburns too? Maybe that is just the start of it and in actual fact sightings of bigfoot are actually post menopausal women hiding out in the wood because they have developed all over fuzz.
I daren't look at the left one. When I feel braver, and have bought a new bag of nice sharp bics I will shave my face to within an inch of its life. Till then I will leave my head hair to hang forward and everything can blend in together.
That was pre the year 2000 and slowly, bit by bit I am looking more cavewoman than couture. My younger daughter never took the mantle over, but likes to point out that my eyebrows need "doing". No, she likes to gasp in horror as she spots the occasional grey hair, demanding that she pull it out. After pulling a handful of brown hairs she declares she can't get it, leaving a nice bald patch with one solitary grey hair stuck up in the middle of it.
After yet another mention of the brows I thought I would take matters into my own hands and try the job myself. I got up close to the mirror, and almost gasped in horror myself! To my half bespectacled eye it looks like my right eyebrow has decided to be a side burn instead and try and join my hairline. For heavens sake! Is this what happens to women when they reach a certain age? I know of beards and moustaches, and await mine with a certain amount of glee, but sideburns too? Maybe that is just the start of it and in actual fact sightings of bigfoot are actually post menopausal women hiding out in the wood because they have developed all over fuzz.
I daren't look at the left one. When I feel braver, and have bought a new bag of nice sharp bics I will shave my face to within an inch of its life. Till then I will leave my head hair to hang forward and everything can blend in together.
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