working on it

And I have 300 less pounds.

Vetses is expensive.

They gave me the whole, "He'll sleep, not go out or want to eat much" talk - Rufus wasn't listening and has proceeded to devour some chicken, patrol his estate and loll around looking cutesome and sweet. No hesitation in necking the chicken either, considering he has 13 holes in his gums. He's a lot hardier than I am when it comes to dentistry, that's for certain.

Just half hour, because I wanted to get out of the house and get some fresh air. I'd been walking less then 15 minutes when I tripped when stepping over a low wall and scraped my leg bloody! So, more accurately, I went for a 15 minute walk and a 15 minute limp! The sun and sea were lovely though, the tide was in and crashing over the sea defences.

Then I went and parked in the country (near those trees in my last picture) and read my book in the sunshine for an hour.

Then I went and bought some plants for my garden, some heathery things and some bulbs.

I put my back out today - bent to feed the cats and something went ping. I walked around work like an old, old lady!

I'm sitting on my sofa. On the far arm, Phoebe is curled up, nose under her tail. cute as you like.

At my end, I am sitting with my feet curled up beside me, laptop on my, well, lap.

On my feet, snuggled up against my thigh is Bruce, curled round, head upside down and feet in the begging position.
On my other thigh is Albert, he is stretched out, slotted in under the laptop. On the arm of the sofa is Rufus' bottom, his head and front paws are resting across my arm and boob.

I am as warm as toast.

Catblanket.

I'm going to bed. With a book, with hot buttered toast, and with hot chocolate. And you can't stop me.

:)

I've been to Southwold many many many times, I've been to the Pier cafeteria and had a chocolate Sundae with 6 (six!) flakes in one dish, I've been to the Pier Amusements and the Pier toilets.

I have never, before today even seen the pier itself. As mind bogglingly stupid as it sounds, I never even knew there was an actual Pier there. (Not sure what I thought, it seems that I didn't think at all, maybe I thought it was like the Lowestoft Piers that don't actually seem to exist beyond an amusement arcade.) Either way,I was surprised to find out that there was a pier, with amusements, restaurants, shops, fishermen and a water clock.

[Said water clock performed on the half hour, I happened to be there at the appropriate time and saw a mini crowd gathering, so loitered with intent. The half hour came and some tulips popped up, a tin man in a bath spat water and then, at the climax of the piece, two other tin men dropped trou and 'peed' water. The reaction was astonishing - such gushing laughter, excitement and amusement. One woman was laughing so hard, then turned to her companion and explained how she has watched the clock many times and always finds it so very funny... I think I must be generally sour.]

There's also an 'under the pier' show, with all these bizarre things - a treadmill with a robot dog on so you can 'rent a dog' and take it for a walk. I frisking machine where you stand and two gloves frisk you. A zimmer cross the road machine, where you walk a zimmer and dodge video cars, a box you sit in to experience a total eclipse... loads of these bizarre inventions. One older couple were trying everything. Rephrase, one older man was being forcefully persuaded to try out every machine by his companion. At the other end of the room a child was screaming in abject terror as a paper mache (how do you type accents?) doctor was looming at her. Grand stuff.

My friend and I then sat in a hotel lounge eating lunch and chilling. Slowly we outsat everyone else in the bar (staff included) until there was just one man there, hidden behind a newspaper. S jokily commented that he was listening to our conversation and would be perturbed, so I said "So, S, tell me about your sex life" and mimed the chap freaking out behind his paper. S must have missed this mime, and proceeded to tell me. In more detail than I ever needed to know.

I win points for calmness however (although I do think this is because I seem to be seeing things from a distance at the moment) - when we were driving home, S misread the road entirely (it is a deceptive bend) and mounted the pavement and I just coolly told her "this is the pavement S, not the road", so calm, no agitation or alarm. (S reacted with slightly more panic!)

Anyway. That was today.

Lemon drizzle and gingerbread to be precise. I can vouch for the lemon, but am leaving the gingerbread to develop. Hopefully it will be good.

I am also reading new Jack Reacher.

Harry Potter's Aunt Petunia was a badass witch in True Blood. Which was a surprise. And now Maid Marion is in it, and Alistair from SPN.

I slept well last night. I think it was the alcohol, which I am now resisting.

All of my cats are in the house and have even been in the same room for hours at a time. It's the rain rather than a sudden bonding, but I'll take what I can get.

Something's gonna give at some point I guess, but in the meantime, me and the tissue box are well acquainted and I have a constant headache.

Today though, amongst all the things and the stuff and the rubbish, I had to listen to colleagues pronounce to all who cared to listen, how much worse it was for the mothers at work than anyone else. Just how much more difficult it was for those with children to cope with the work load and pressures than those without children. So very much more tough.

Why exactly? Why does my work/life balance count for less than theirs? Why is it not equally as torturous for me to work myself into a puddle of shit as it is for them? Why does the fact that I don't get to see my friends because I'm working late every sodding night, count for less? The fact I have to leave work and then go and check in on Mum before I can get home? In fact, they don't work late - the parents all get to say "no, I'm not working late, I have kids" - why does that count for more than "I have to get home to care for my Mother, or to see a partner or even to spend a couple of hours on my own to reclaim my sanity"?

Don't get me wrong - parents have huge pressures, they have to juggle life and child care and stress and all the rest of it. But 90% of the time, that's a choice they made, no one made them have kids and they get all the joy and love and reward that goes with it. I'm happy for them.

But whatever being a parent makes them, it doesn't make them any more or less deserving than me. It doesn't mean that all the crap and stress and overwork hits me any less hard than it does them. Why do we have to grade on some sort of curve anyway. We're all in a shithole of a job, overworked and with redundancy looming. Why compete for who's suffering most?

Yes I'm tired, and worn down and crushed with it all. I'm harpy and oversensitive, but I'm equally as valid as those without children and I get fed up with being told I'm not.

[And no, no one on my lovely flist does this to me.]

And came back with a £3.99 bar of soap.

(which yes, four quid for a bar of soap is ridiculous, but still.)

I only bought it because it was in a nice box. There was a notebook too. It was A4 size, with really lovely pages - a kind of expensive but cheap looking finish. Lined and heavy. (that sounds ridiculous, the finish made it seem like an old fashioned type of paper. the ages were lovely and enticing. But the cover of the book was some kind of (fake, I hope) pony skin/fur concoction and I couldn't bear to touch it, it made me shudder and I walked around touching other things trying to rid my hands of the feel* so I couldn't buy it.

still, it's not as if I don't have a notebook or two about.

Then I took other to the supermarket, which was teh hell it normally is, made worse by it being a Saturday afternoon.

Where does one get a hearing test in the UK? I'm not sure if my Mum is getting ever more softly spoken, or if I'm going deaf. Either way it's driving me up the wall. There's a certain kind of white noise in the supermarkets that not only blocks me from hearing properly, it builds into a pressure in my head that makes me want to scream at times. (I'm fairly certain it's the nose, although I d hate supermarket shopping.)

*my senses seem a bit, well oversensitive of late. That whole touch thing with the book, the noise of supermarkets squashing my brain and I have to wear earplugs at night now to stand a chance at sleeping (baby seagulls on the roof and neighbours thinking that ta beautiful warm summer's evening means they should sit in the garden enjoying it. I mean what is the matter with some folk, how dare they sit, quietly chatting and laughing in their own yards. Seriously, it's the quietest and most inoffensive of noises, but it keeps me awake. I am walking around like a zombie at the moment.

Although last night's not sleeping was due to the fact that just as I was dropping off, I was startled awake by somebody (I would swear my Dad) calling my name. I saw or heard nothing further but lay awake for a good while listening, desperately for more.