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Mar. 11th, 2007 10:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lolabobsHave spent much of today asleep - I think I am beginning to get the family 'lurg' of arthritis - My nanny, Mum and older brother all have it, all onset at my age... I have spent the few weeks with pain in my bones, throbbing and aches etc - I really would prefer it not to be, and I will give it a few more weeks before I decide to accept that this is what it is - but it has been a nuisance. At least the family tendancy is for osteo and not rheumatoid.
Anyway, blitzed the downstairs of the house yesterday, my friend came round yesterday evening - we done well, we have, in the past, polished off 5 bottles of wine between us in an evening - this time we stuck at two, and consequently no hangover this morning. But have slept lots.
Other activities of today? - Not packing. I am away from tomorrow 'til Thursday evening - I have yet to pack. I hate packing. Whether it's to go away on a course, to go on holiday - even when I used to pack up to come back from Uni - which I hated with a passion - I still hated it. I shall throw some pants in a case before bed, and then refuse to think about it. I have to work tomorrow, then drive to Hertford straight from work - I will get lost. I always do. Then I shall be anxious.
I do anxious very well - I can choose between being anxious about things at home - the cats, Mum volunteering to 'tidy my bedroom' for me while I'm away, which means I have to 'sweep' it before I go in the morning (and yes I've told her not to bother - she is 'doing me a favour'). Or I can be anxious about the driving to Hertford, the driving between hotel and venue and the driving home again. I can worry about being there for 3 days with people I don't know, and people I do know, and having to be sociable. And not being on the internet and not having the right things to read, and many many things.
Currently I am anxious about not having packed, about being whingy, about being scared to go on list, about not finding my passport which I was supposed to have done today, about the holiday I'm supposed to be looking for the passport for, about finding my mot certificate, about not being able to write the thing I want to write, about all the writing commentary that's going on at the moment, with evil words and bad habits and all the things which are entirely valid and apt and so on and ug. About being anxious and rargh.
Like I said, me and anxiety are intimately acquainted.
In my houseworky moments yesterday I tidied the 'drug drawer' and as well as an astonishing 203 painkillers of differing sorts and varieties - I just buy them every so often,(normally sold in packs of 16). Also there were 2 partially used and 3 completely untouched packets of antidepressents. (Long out of date, I don't do them anymore (and clearly didn't do them properly last time I did either!). Those will go to the pharmacy to be dumped safely.
I've been burning discs, just need to work out how to send them, I don't have any cases, I guess they'll be okay lose in a padded envelope or something. I will see what I can find. :)
Ooh - should have checked my oil and water I suppose - by which I mean I should have looked pitifully at my father and asked him to 'show me how to do it' again... I'm a pathetic excuse for womanhood. But I like my Dad looking after me.
Ah well, I shall go an take my anxieties to bed. :)
Anyway, blitzed the downstairs of the house yesterday, my friend came round yesterday evening - we done well, we have, in the past, polished off 5 bottles of wine between us in an evening - this time we stuck at two, and consequently no hangover this morning. But have slept lots.
Other activities of today? - Not packing. I am away from tomorrow 'til Thursday evening - I have yet to pack. I hate packing. Whether it's to go away on a course, to go on holiday - even when I used to pack up to come back from Uni - which I hated with a passion - I still hated it. I shall throw some pants in a case before bed, and then refuse to think about it. I have to work tomorrow, then drive to Hertford straight from work - I will get lost. I always do. Then I shall be anxious.
I do anxious very well - I can choose between being anxious about things at home - the cats, Mum volunteering to 'tidy my bedroom' for me while I'm away, which means I have to 'sweep' it before I go in the morning (and yes I've told her not to bother - she is 'doing me a favour'). Or I can be anxious about the driving to Hertford, the driving between hotel and venue and the driving home again. I can worry about being there for 3 days with people I don't know, and people I do know, and having to be sociable. And not being on the internet and not having the right things to read, and many many things.
Currently I am anxious about not having packed, about being whingy, about being scared to go on list, about not finding my passport which I was supposed to have done today, about the holiday I'm supposed to be looking for the passport for, about finding my mot certificate, about not being able to write the thing I want to write, about all the writing commentary that's going on at the moment, with evil words and bad habits and all the things which are entirely valid and apt and so on and ug. About being anxious and rargh.
Like I said, me and anxiety are intimately acquainted.
In my houseworky moments yesterday I tidied the 'drug drawer' and as well as an astonishing 203 painkillers of differing sorts and varieties - I just buy them every so often,(normally sold in packs of 16). Also there were 2 partially used and 3 completely untouched packets of antidepressents. (Long out of date, I don't do them anymore (and clearly didn't do them properly last time I did either!). Those will go to the pharmacy to be dumped safely.
I've been burning discs, just need to work out how to send them, I don't have any cases, I guess they'll be okay lose in a padded envelope or something. I will see what I can find. :)
Ooh - should have checked my oil and water I suppose - by which I mean I should have looked pitifully at my father and asked him to 'show me how to do it' again... I'm a pathetic excuse for womanhood. But I like my Dad looking after me.
Ah well, I shall go an take my anxieties to bed. :)
