Wiping the sleep from my eyes is a joke, I never got any. I heard the clock strike every hour and I tossed and turned like I was on a spit. I hate middle age and I hate scleroderma!
My mum used to complain about aches and pains, indeed I remember thinking "I hope I don't end up like that!? Guess what? I have! I've become my mum and whilst that's not altogether a bad thing, I have an auto immune disease as well. Do you think I'm on a pity search this morning -- you betcha! I won't get any pity from my lot, not even a reference of sympathy, more a grunt of aknowledgement, "Now, where's my cup of tea" They ask. Yes I'm searching for at least some degree of "Aww" but I won't get it!
I could go off on a tangent and list all my aiments but it depresses me so I'll carry on being the soldier that I am. I sound so self pitiful but it's my blog and I'll put it in writing rather than spill the beans to some uninterested bored soul who's mind would wander elsewhere rather than listen. Even my doctor writes with head down and in a couldn't care less attitude, not that I've seen her for a while, I simply refuse to be dismissed as a hopeless case.
At least the day is bright and that's something to be cheerful about. At least the building work is taking shape, albeit slow and I have a training day at the radio station to take my mind off my aches.
My friend left me to bake a wedding cake, I say left because although it's her contribution to a family wedding -- I'm left with the making. I love the way in which she volunteered to do the cake, then asked for my help before jetting off to Cyprus. "We really need to do this cake, I'm very worried about it!" Then boarded a plane and took off! Charming! So now I'm doing it for her.
"We'll have to get the icing when I come back -- will you ice it for me -- Oh and will you take me to the shop to buy it?"
Blimey! I may as well just do it because I think I'll end up with the whole job with no credit! Why do I always end up doing things that someone else voluteers to do? Maybe I'm a soft touch or maybe I'm just stupid, who knows but a pity party won't have many guests at this rate so I won't be sending out the invites!
My second cup of coffee does the trick. I'm wide awake now hyped up on caffeine and dosed up on a second chocolate biscuit. That's my limit for today -- they're already stuck and I'll spend the rest of the day trying to swallow them. The radio station thinks I'm on a diet and then I get a well meaning lecture on how I'm slender enough without counting calories. The training day is usually an excuse to bring out biscuits and copious amounts of beverages. The one thing I'd hate to do is show off my projectile vomit skills, and if that sounds "Yuck" I can assure you it is!
"Do you never eat?" One of the presenters asked at the last training schedule. Never so near the truth anyone could be, but I smiled and made my usual excuses and apart from the questions I get about my permanently frozen hands, I get away with being "Babs the presenter" not "Mrs sick-a-lot"
You can join my pity party at the rear of my house right beside the gaping hole. You can freeze along with me, we can exchange gloves and I promise plenty of hot drinks. If you want liquid nutrition -- I have that too and a spare machine, so you see I'm well organised!
Best policy is a cyber pity party I think. That way we can all join in!