lolabobs: (angels)
We have snow, but not as much as they keep telling us we're going to have. Which, I don't even like snow, but I can't help but feel cheated.

Work has been weird - Monday started by going in and finding out that one of the receptionists had been sacked abruptly late Friday, which was unsettling. It's sad that all the expressions of sympathy were empathic in nature, frather than genuinely upset that the particular person had gone. Sad too that the reactions went from "Gosh, really why?" to "who's covering her work?" very quickly. She was an odd and not overly pleasant person though, so I guess that's been reflected.

Anyway, after that, Tuesday there were men on the roof making ridiculous amounts of noise. Removing some form of structure, which resulted in Wednesday, walking into an office with caved in ceilings, debris and muck and much water everywhere. (Thankfully not my office space). Much dispute has arisen between contractors and management as to the extent and cause of damage. (contractors are positing the theory that it was a coincidental ceiling catastrophe and naught to do with their removing roof tiles and failing to secure any cover...)

Friday saw confirmation that, once again, they are moving staff around, shifting people's desks and locations and general disruption. Have yet to have any real explanation as to why. Of course, we all have so much free time that a few more days wasted packing up and relocating is not going to be a problem. \sarcasm.

Anyhoo.

On top of that it's been a crappy week, I've been speaking to Debs around the loss of her mother and it's heartbreaking just on a compassionate level, but of course, it's bringing far too much to the fore about Dad - and as a consequence I'm dreaming horribly (or about my late boss*, which is equally disturbing if not emotionally distressing) On a lighter note though, I did dream that my bathroom taps were possessed by an evil spirit so I attempted an exorcism by singing Amazing Grace at them...

I don't think Sam'n'Dean ought to try that anytime soon (although it would be amusing to watch, perhaps less so than the current eps!)

On the tv front - I'm watching; SPN, this week's episode was good, but emotionally bleak. H5O which was, well, rather ridiculous of course, but enjoyable nonetheless. Ripper Street - similarly ridiculous, but managing to seem believable while I watch and I really like it and I have Suits still to watch. Oh and Lewis! I don't like it in two halves and I don't like where it's going but I'm enjoying the journey, and there was a dramatic moment when Hathaway looked sooo young and vulnerable and oh.

And my tummy hurts still and I've been feeling bleak all week, but I bought myself a new duvet cover and I won £5 on a scratchcard and I'm trying t hold on to the bright side.

*did I mention that walking into work a couple of weeks back I clearly and distinctly heard his voice? There was just me in the corridor and two women in the staff room. Strange. He would have found the concept of haunting the place amusing though, so I'm not perturbed.
lolabobs: (Default)
Daddy

One year ago my heart was broken. I miss my Daddy every single day.
lolabobs: (Default)
And then yesterday was the funeral for my boss. I'd been in a dilemma all week as to whether I should go or not. I felt I should, wanted to go, because I wanted to show my respect and also knew how important it felt for me to have lots of people at Dad's, but I was scared because I didn't know if I'd be able to do it.

I went in the end, but started getting so anxious and strung out in the car on the way - far too many memories of the last time I was there and was crying before I even got halfway there. I persevered though and brought myself under control. There were lots of people from work - a number of old faces too - the whole, lovely to see you but for such a horrible reason cliche.

I was doing okay until it came to walking in and seeing the same celebrant as for Dad, the same doors etc. It was awful and I felt guilty because I was crying for the wrong reasons. I wasn't there mourning David, I was remembering and reliving and wanting my Daddy.

I was glad I went though, because Probation aside, there were very few mourners (and so so wrong, but I couldn't stop myself thinking "There were so many more for Dad" and gaining comfort from that.)

The celebrant (SuperSteve!) was the same man and bits of his presentation were exactly the same, as in word for word, the same as for Dad - which threw me back screechingly to our ceremony and when the family walked in I had to fight so hard to stay in my seat and not leave.

But I did it. I left pretty much straight away - went and sat in my car and had a cry. Then spent the rest of the day in a foul, foul mood. But I did it and was proud of myself for that.
lolabobs: (Default)
Yesterday my car flashed at me. A pretty little red light, intermittently on the dash.

I have been well trained; returning home after an hour long drive and innocently asking what does [the handbrake] light mean and seeing your father melt into a despairing heap on the chair will teach you not to ignore the little red lights.

So I was a big brave girl. I went to the garage. I admitted my ignorance and I asked them to look at the little red light and make it go away.

I left the car in the garage and cried all the way to work. I don't want to be a big brave girl. I don't want to deal with things like this, I want to call my Daddy and have him do it. I want to be puttered at for not checking my oil, shown what to do and be told cautionary tales of woe.

Instead, an hour or two later the Kwik Fit man called and told me how I nearly killed my car with oil starvation. How my car with a 3litre oil capacity had taken 2.5litres when they refilled it. How a few miles more and the engine would have gone kersplat.

Actually, he was lovely. He didn't mock me or scold, just explained and gave me advice. He didn't even charge me for the oil they put in or the time they took to check it out and sort it.

Ups and downs.
lolabobs: (Default)
I had a flat tyre today - sitting at work, waiting for my late night reporters and anticipating my escape for the day. (First day back at work, every bit as bad as I expected, with the added joy of realising that I have a mahoosive report due in Wed, that I haven't even started yet. I will be working late tomorrow)

Anyway there I sat, wondering what work I could get done in the next 40 minutes - when a colleague popped up to break the news that my tyre was completely flat. Grand.

Thankfully, I remembered that I have *free* recovery as part of my bank account (hence the dubiousness of the word 'free', I pay a fee every month) and joy of joys flat tyres were covered - so I waited an hour or so for the chap to turn up and change my tyre for me. I now have a little bright orange thing on it and I have to try and get the punctured wheel repaired tomorrow. (the repair bit is fine, I have a guarantee on the tyres I bought and they should do it free of charge, I'm not so sure about whether they'll swap the tyres over again for me though. And while *in theory* I know how to change a tyre, I'm not sure how much I'd trust a wheel I fixed on!

Ah well, we'll see!

And it's ridiculous, but I feel... to say 'I dealt with it myself' is ridiculous when you realise that all I did was make a phonecall, but I'm a Daddy's girl through and through and what I would have done is call my Daddy and he'd have come and we'd have changed the tyre together and we'd have gotten wet and we'd have made a mess and niggled each other about how tight to screw things on and struggled with bolts and . So. part of me wants to feel proud that I coped with this ridiculously easy issue on my own, that I didn't panic or get upset and that I knew what to do and managed it.

The rest of me is so sad that I had to.
lolabobs: (Default)
So, I brought Daddy home today, we buried the ashes in the garden in the spot we'd prepared.

Mum feels happier now, well, more at ease, not happy as such.
lolabobs: (Default)
Daddy

lolabobs: (Default)
Bbq at the weekend. Ex sister in law, her new hubby and nephew - and Mum and me. It's the first time that we've been up there for an official social gathering (as opposed to popping in to deliver presents etc) - it was okay. Ethan (nephew) and I get on stonkingly well and always have something to say, and it was good.

As we were getting ready to leave however, Mandy started talking about Dad. Which is fine, we talk about him all the time, but the wine she'd had (she always gets emotional after a few glasses, her own family are less than supportive and we took her on as ours, When she had the affair and left my brother, she was terrified she'd thrown that away and is now always tearfully grateful to have retained us).

So, evening was threatening to get melancholic, she'd asked about Dad's ashes, and was moving on from there with a sad little "I do miss him..."

When hubby, who was in the kitchen, oblivious and involved with their cat, suddenly bellowed

"Uh oh! Here he comes!"









The moment was lost saved. Tears of laughter ensued instead!
lolabobs: (Default)
The weekend started well. Thursday evening I saw my brother, then my Mum, then my friend. Friday I got a swanky new hoover thing and then I went to Norwich, met my friend, had a meal and saw Sister Act (the musical) which was fantastic and very funny). And Saturday I had my haircut, took my Mum out for afternoon tea and my Brother got married (at Gretna).

Then
I got a migraine.
I went to bed and mid way through the night I got night terrors/paralysis. Now I know that academically, night terrors is some sort of physical confusion and things not working as they should do. Academically. And that is how I strive to deal with them. Except - I know that some people view these as ghost activity. This was the first such night terror I've had since losing Dad - so, although I know it's physiological and although I know it's better to break free of them at the earliest opportunity, before the 'visitation and voices', I couldn't. just in case. Needless to say it wasn't, and I just ended up scared *and* disappointed.

So. Then Sunday was spent in a post migraine, residual headache fog.

Until Sunday bedtime, when my possibly an ulcer,possibly something else not really chest pains decided to start - and I spent the night writing in pain, reminding myself that it was nothing to do with my chest and being s***. Normally this whole fiasco lasts a couple of hours at most - last night's endured for 10 hours. Now there isn't a part of me that doesn't ache and I'm tired and weepy.

Not least 'cos Mum came down to look after me - and had to get a taxi to do so. I miss my Daddy so much.
lolabobs: (Default)
Last Friday was my friend's birthday; she had a mini party and then we all went to a local pub for Karaoke and fun. We usually go to Boogie Nights, a cheesetastic party night at a night club in the next town, but Daddy used to take us, and rather than have me upset, Paula changed her plans and we stuck to Lowestoft. She's marvellous.

We had a really good night, lots and lots of laughter, hugs and just fun. She was merry and at one point she just hugged me, for such a long time - and it felt so safe and so warm - it made me cry, but I'm used to that. It was a really good night.

Whilst there, we bumped into a second or third cousin of mine, coincidentally the mother of one of Paulette's pupils. I haven't seen her in years, but we spoke and she met Paula etc etc - and her mother was there- Dad's cousin, we nodded and spoke very briefly. (as in 'hello'".

So. Mum's away this week, and I'm on cat duty. I checked her answer machine messages to hear a call from my Aunt, commenting that I was seen at the weekend and had "obviously moved on."

And I'm so angry - and guilty and cross and sad. I miss my Daddy so so very much.
lolabobs: (Default)
[livejournal.com profile] whatho asked me questions. I answered them:

1. Have you ever had pets that aren't cats? Would you be interested in having non-catty pets now?
When I was much smaller about 5 I think, I had a hamster, I don't remember anything about it. Although I know it once escaped and ate my chocolate. When I was 11ish, a gnger kitten followed my brother home and I wanted to keep it but wasn't allowed. In consolation I was gven another hamster. Called Fred. This lasted 2 years. He died after my (other) brother dropped him.

We had rabbits, but that was in a wierd period when my Dad was 'Lets eat rabbits', (and I was all, lets not) so that didn't work too well. When he grew out of that (sometime after the first 'harvest', when he realised butchery wasn't all that nice) we had two left over rabbits. My brothers' pets really. They had a run in the garden and the run of the garden in the day time. That ended when my brother shut the run thinking they were in when they were out and his girlfriend's dog killed them.

My brothers then bought a new rabbit each, one died the day he bought it (evil pet shop) so he brought a guinea pig. The other rabbit killed that, and the next one he bought. (Evil rabbit). That rabbit then ruled the roost for years (fighting the neighbourhood cats if they dared enter the garden).

Then the cat era began. I wouldn't want any other pet.

That sounds like a slaughterfest of petdeath, but it was over my lifetime and condensed.

2. Did you enjoy school?
Liked Infant and Junior. Loathed Middle, loved High. Hated 6th form. Hated Uni.

3. What do think of Starsky's red long johns? I rather like them.
I think they are glorious.

4. Is there anywhere you'd rather live than your current home?
I'm very unadventurous really. Let me think. I liked living n Ealing (although I hated Uni) - I liked having access to everything, but not enough to live there again. There is a house on the cliff in my hometown that I pine for. It is huge, but it has round towers and square bow windows, and turrets and towers and little balconies and big ones, and attic rooms and ooh it looks so intriguing and it overlooks the sea and is near the wooded areas and there's be wildlife and fresh sea air and I woudl love to live there.

The reality is that I am likely to move in with my mother at some time in the nearish future and that's okay, cos I like that house too.

I'm not brave enough to consider moving overseas.

5. If you had to live one day over again, which would you pick?

A day out last year with my parents. I love figurative war memorials, and my Dad had found one in Bury St Edmonds. So he took us there to see it and so I could take photos. We went to Bury and had lunch, then did some shopping. We found the memorial and I treid to photograph it (not terribly succesfully, the sun was behind it) but we tried. We had an ice cream - and Dad was teasing the icecream serving woman (do they have a name?), we ate ice cream in the sun, then mooched some more, before setting off home.

On the way home we noticed all the fruit in the trees beside the roads (A-roads), so then Dad found a way to the back of the A-roads and we went scrumping! Mum tootled off blackberrying and Dad and I were clambering up slopes, shaking trees, dodging falling apples, getting stuck in thorn bushes and trying to climb trees. It was so funny, we were laughing our socks off, competing as to who could move the biggest tree and harvest the most apples. When we went back to find Mum she'd wandered off into prvate property and we had to snaffle her back before she got caught!

We carried on homewards and found a converted post office selling cream teas and Gladioli, so we had scones and tea and eventually arrived home clutching scrumped apples, blackberries and sorry looking Glads!

It was a marvellous day, spontaneous and mellow and kind of sums up my Dad, so yeah, that'll be good for me.
lolabobs: (Default)
Started well, took Mum shopping, got our chores done, bought some fancy clips for my hair, put me fancy togs on and went to my friend's wedding.

She looked gorgeous, really did. Beautiful and glowing and happy and that was lovely.

But I ended up leaving the party at 8.30 and sobbing my guts out in the car.

I didn't really know anyone there - a couple of people to make small talk with, that's all. So small talked through the pre wedding bit. They had the ceremony, which was nice (very brief though). Then I went to the venue - there I stood alone for 35minutes before anyone I knew at all arrived. (Everyone else in tight family groups and I'm no good at pushing myself in.) The meal came, and that was okay, but it was a table of people I knew only vaguely, and who knew each other only vaguely too, so followed another couple of hours of stilted smalltalk around food. Then it shifted to the 'evening do', the lights wnt down, the music went up and tons of other people arrived, all of whom knew each other, none of whom knew me. I stood, smiling, interjecting into conversations where possible and shrinking inside.

And I sort of could have coped with that. But:

The registrar was the same woman we registered Dad's death with, in the same building.
A good chunk of the conversation I couldn't help hearing was about Girl X's father who is currently dying in hospital.
Bridegroom had an 11yr old daughter whom he was doting upon, hugging, dancing with, loving.


I could have coped with the Dad stuff if I had friends around me, or with being alone if the other stuff wasn't going on.

As it is I managed to retreat, say my farewells to the Bride and reach my car before dissolving into a weeping, blubbering mess, which I count as a win.
lolabobs: (Default)
I went to see a link worker today, referred by my doctor 'cos I was such a wreck when I went to see him. To be fair to the link guy I took against him straight away as he greeted me so apologetically, but he didn't do himself any favours when he appeared unable to say any of the words linked to dead, died, death etc. I went off him further when he proceeded to advise me to think about Dad only once a day (I could sort of follow the logic behind this, if thinking about Dad made me unhappy - thinking about his loss upsets me, remembering him is a comfort.) He also told me that it was 'impossible to think/listen if one is speaking'. To 'prove' this he had me read from a text book whilst he spoke some nonsense at me. Literally nonsense - lines from nursery rhymes, football scores etc. When we'd finished he asked me to tell him what he'd said. I told him. He looked so crestfallen that I felt compelled to offer him fake consolation that I hadn't really remembered much of what I was reading if that helped at all...?!

Ah well, he gave me some telephone numbers to take away with me.

BUT! I've been making...

Look at my lovely bag..

Photobucket
Photobucket

Cable ultra thick wool, lining sewn on my new sewing machine and handles, um, recycled from an unwanted gift.
lolabobs: (Default)
Good and not so good.

Bernard returned mid morning. Unharmed but hungry.

Bruce is still missing. BUT: When I call him, I can hear him answering, sad and plaintive cries in direct response to me calling. Except I can't pinpoint where they're coming from. There are a tangle of gardens that I can't access and can't see into properly and so I can't see where he is. He's obviously trapped though, which is breakng my heart, beacuse what if I don't get him out?

I've put notes through the doors of the houses I think it might be, and I even went into the scary pub on the corner and asked the landlord there. My brother is going to come tomorrow and try and help me pinpoint where the cries are coming from. What we'll do then I don't know. I already called the RSCPCA who said they can do nothing. I don't know.

I don't know if Bernard was trapped in the same place and managed to escape or if it's just a fluke. I tried to follow Bernard, but he just kept throwing himself on the floor for a belly rub. (Although he followed me door to door when I was putting the notes through.)

[and before I realised he was trapped somewhere I went to my vet's and asked them to be on the alert - when I was there, the receptionist recognised me as Dad's daughter and talked about how lovely he was and how sorry they were. She said that he'd been upset when he took the stray in to be rehomed, but said that they'd found him a lovely new home.]
lolabobs: (Default)
I've seen neither Bernard or Bruce since yesterday morning. They've both just vanished. I've been out calling them, but nothing. It's awful. It also seems very strange that two should disappear at once. They are the two that my neighbour just left here when she moved, so I've been wondering has she been and kidnapped them, or have they got stuck in her house (the landlord's been in doing work), or then I think has someone caught them to o horrible things to them. I want them to come home.

And I was looking today, and I daren't look over a wall and I knew that My Dad would have done, he would have gone in, peered into people's gardens and all sorts and I want him not to be gone and to be helping me.

And I realised that in a way it's as if I've lost both my parents, 'cos I'm so sad and I want someone to hug me and make me feel better, but I don't have my Daddy and I can't worry Mum with it all, and I don't want to do this anymore. I hate it and I feel so pathetic and just so damned sad.
lolabobs: (Default)
And how shitty they were about sorting out my Dad's account? Well I sent them a detailed complaint letter.

They responded today - with a letter addressed to Dad.

!!!!
lolabobs: (Default)
Although not necessarily by me.

I went in - scurried in through the back door and straight into the loo to hide. (The condoms are still there!) But I did emerge and found my desk, sat with a friend instead of at my empty desk and was...protected...whilst she was there.

I had a meeting with my line manager - this went well until he mentioned that he'd booked in some meetings between us over the next 3 weeks to monitor my progress. (Miraculous in and of itself, getting supervision with this man is impossible). First meeting was fine, second was on a Thursday, which is a programmes day. "Ah," said I "I don't know if, Thursdays are... Prog..." and burst into tears. Which a) terrorised him, he doesn't do people skills and b) is a bit of a clue as to my feelings re programmes.

While he sat there like a rabbit in headlights, I found tissues and brought myself under control. "We're just focussing on OM work at the moment" he says, "Get you up to speed on that before anything else." "Good, cos I don't know what's happenning with Progr..." oh look, there are the tears again!

We kinda avoided that word after that, and I went and sat at my desk and started to read some of the 400 emails in my in box. I lasted three hours in total and then had to run away.

Thursday I went in again and met with the HR woman. We talked, about things in general, about 'How was Tuesday?' and so on. Then I tried to say the P word again, ("Have you spoken with Programmes?") and along came the tears...

But! Along came her answer: "Yes, and we're getting it sorted. You won't be going back there."

So, of course, I started crying more.

BUT BUT BUT. The decision was made for me. (Maybe something to do with my inability to say the word...)So, once I return fully I shall be full time OM again. I do feel bad about letting them down, they are very short staffed and L is about to go on maternity leave, so there wll be hardly anyone in the team, but oh my goodness. From a sanity point of view, I feel so much better.


*****
lolabobs: (Default)
For a meeting and maybe a couple of hours is all. I went to see Doc this morning and he wanted to sign me off longer, but I need to go back to work now. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to and I cried ater speaking to the HR, and feel sick whenever I think of it, but if I don't go back soon I won't be able to. And as I haven't won the lottery I cannot live without a job, therefore needs must. My doctor was lovely though.

I have an appointmnet with a link worker on the 30th - how quickly works the nhs - and I'm not really sure what it's for, to 'assess' and see what help I need. I need all this not to have happened, but I guess that's an unreasonable request.

Anyhoo. Work. I shall be on some kind of phased return - a meeting with my line manager tomorrow (I've been reverted back to my old line manager in my absence. Not sure how he'll feel about that, but I think I've been deemed too fragile to cope with a new line manager right now, especially one who is retiring at Easter.) and a meeting wth HR on Thursday. I probably shan't go in other than that this week.

My biggest dilemma/issue is whether I can/want to continue the group delivery work.

me trying to make straight my thoughts and worries about group work. It's a confusing mess to me so is best avoided. ).

What else. I have been sleeping at home for a week now. I've been sleeping at home, pottering about in the mornings and then coming up to Mum's for the rest of the day/evening. Obviously when I return to work full time she will then be alone all day. I hate it. Mum and Dad were those couple that went everywhere together, sat together in the evenings, held hands when they walked anywhere. I hate her being alone so much. She, of course, says "she's fine" and "will manage" and "I'm not going to ruin your life, girly." but then she talks to other people and says how she hates the quiet and how long the evenings are when she's on her own and how dreadful it is.

And see, I know time is the great healer and she will get used to his absence, and being alone and all the rest of it but in the meantime I cry in my car after I leave her each night.

And the other thing is her health - that's not going to get better - and I know that, unless she reaches a stage that needs hospital type care, I will have to move in with her eventually to look after her. And I wonder if it wouldn't be better to just do that now - rather than waiting till later? - which brings with it huge questions aboutr finance and funding and buying her house and cats and ... oh.

These are the things that go round and round and round my mind. It's no wonder I can't sleep. Although, if I catch the sleeping pill at a time when I have a restful mind - ie I stop reading at exactly the right time, then I can catch a few hours.

I've been trying to organise scattering Dad's ashes, and Mum's Benefits, and Dad's bank accounts and they're all being shitty. Oh! And I had a woman tell me that week that I was "Just being awkward" when I phoned for the FIFTH time to chase a refund that had supposedly been issued 5 weeks ago!
lolabobs: (daddy)
Thanks to my Daddy.

I heard today that both of his corneas were used in succesful operations to save the sight/give sight to two women. One aged 54 and one aged 58, in Dorset and Cornwall respectively.

If they are seeing the world through hs eyes they aren't doing too badly.
lolabobs: (Default)
The thrilling events of today. Housework, first here and then there. I decided at the beginning of the week that I would move home this weekend, but it seems to have slipped my mind and suddenly tomorrow is the weekend and it seems ridiculous to even consider it. But I know I have to and I shall sleep at mine from Sunday night - but really, it would be very easy to stay here. And I heard Mum talking and she's nervous for when I go. In reality though, for the immediate future I'll still be here most of the time, just going home to sleep when Mum goes to bed. I can't just suddenly disappear and leave her on her own.

We went to my brother's for tea tonight. I'd forgotten that Pete took Dad's car to his at the weekend so he can handle the sale. I turned the corner into his road and it was parked outside and I just burst into tears. It's stupid, 'cos the car sat outside this house for 7 weeks without upsetting me.

My aunt believes in Spiritulism and believes that she is a spiritualist and can communicate with the dead. I... I have mixed feeings about the whole enterprise, I would LOVE to believe it and I do have a vague woolly idea of a continuation of sorts. But I also strongly believe that there are some cruel, cruel people out there who are very good at reading people and manipulating strong emotions. I don't think my Aunt is one of those, but she does 'do readings' for people and I think she's talking out of her hat. Years ago she advised my Grandfather that his recently departed wife was "on a coach trip eating egg sandwiches". Today she called to speak to my Mother and as Mum was in the shower, ended up talking to me. She talked to me about her beliefs and offered as proof the fact that a) Dad had been to her and shown her my mother surrounded by loving arms and b) she talked to her late husband at the supermarket and asked him if she needed to buy eggs. I tell myself she means well. (And also that the spirit world seems to be fixated with eggs).

Oh, but I was brave today and told my brother that, whilst I appreciated his offer of his sewing machine very much, my friends had clubbed together to contribute to a new one for me and so wouldn't accept it. This is the truth, but I'd managed to get myself in a pickle about telling him and seeming ungrateful. He was fine about it.

I've eaten two cupcakes today.

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