Taking my finger off the self-destruct button

Wordsmith

Thanks, elantan. I love reading other people's diaries, too, but can't keep up with some of them as if I miss a day or two there is just too much to read in the time available.

elantan wrote: »

now onto business ....what do you want to do? firstly get your goal ...then figure out how to make it happen ...for instance if you want to return to the van then decide to do that ...you then look into ways to make it safer for you and the dog ...if you choose to return to england decide that and decide what needs to happen for this to happen...the thing is you need to decide what it is you WANT ...what you really WANT ...then you work on it ....

I know. You are right. I just have trouble knowing what it is I do want, or what would be sensible, or what would be the right thing, or how it would affect other people ...

elantan wrote: »

i dont want to appear as if i am being pushy ...but just wanted to say i wish you all the best in dealing with the situation as best as you can

ok lecture over sorry lol

You wouldn't be being pushy, and thanks for the best wishes - and it wasn't a lecture. Thanks!

Wordsmith

Thanks, Seaxwyn. I hope things are better for you today (I read your diary, too).

Seaxwyn wrote: »

Is there anyone near to your parents who can be your deputy and see them every day for you? And what would you lose if you did move back temporarily to be near them?

My sister is near my parents. She chose a home for them so that they would be nearby. She has a stressful job and works away quite a bit, so she generally sees them only at weekends, but it is nearly every weekend. I feel guilty that she is doing most of the visiting. And we both want what is best for our parents, but, umm, we take rather different approaches. It is comforting to know that she is nearby and can check up on how they are. She also tries to take my father when he has to go to hospital appointments and so on. If I moved back I would have to start over again in England - find somewhere to live, work to do - and then start over again again when I come back here.

Seaxwyn wrote: »

Hope you get years of life out of your crocs. Are they the real ones or fake ones? They sell fake ones here for 2 pairs for £15 - let me know if you'd like me to send some over.

Thanks for the offer - kind of you to think of me! But the Crocs are the real ones. I do have a pair of €5 ones, which I have been wearing while waiting for the new ones, but they are not nearly so comfortable and can be quite painful to walk in. I 'ave problems with me feet - fat, swollen and agony - and it was years before I discovered Crocs, but now I have I can't wear anything else. I used to be sometimes almost crying with pain, but now am generally OK except when I walk up hills. I have worn both my ordinary Crocs and my off-road ones today and I already am totally in love with them. I have stopped feeling guilty about the off-road pair, as they were wonderful when I went walking in the forest with the mutt today.

Wordsmith

Quick update before I do some proofreading before going in to open the shop.



Pluses

• I love my new Crocs!
• I love my new specs! I can see! I can see! Distance ones are great for driving and reading ones are varifocal so that I can read the paper on my desk and then look up and read my computer screen. I do a lot of this, so I think the investment was worth it. Varifocals come back from the spec makers with a big red dot in the middle of them (so that the fitter can line it up with your pupil, I think). Trouble was, the eejit who put the red dot on mine did so with permanent marker, so I had to wait 24 hours before picking them up to give them extra time to remove it.
• I cut my fringe (long hair, no hairdresser costs for me, ha ha!) while calm. Usually I do it in a fit of anger, after having spent days saying I really ought to cut it but not having the nerve, only for it to grow that smidgen that sends me over the edge and running for a pair of scissors to hack at it. Was rather sad, though, to see that the result wasn't much better than usual. It is all roughly just above my eyebrows, but it curves up in a smiley kind of a way at the edges.
• Got round to one of my put-off jobs and got a new bulb put in my dodgy headlamp. Took about two minutes and cost a fiver. My excuse is that I was never in the right place at the right time. Realised afterwards that I probably could have done it cheaper by buying the bulb and doing it myself - I had got into the habit of going somewhere to have it done because it is a hideously difficult job in a Fiesta, which I used to have. Next time.
• Ate no chocolate. Didn't even nick anything out of the pick 'n' mix at work.

Unpluses

• Money gone on credit card for my next flight over. However, I booked a couple of days ago and when I checked the cost yesterday it had gone up by about €40 - so in these dark days of making little progress I am choosing to see that as a €40 saving and thus something to be proud of.:D

I hate flying. I prefer to fly alone so that I don't have to talk to anyone and I can immerse myself in a book to take my mind off the fact that I am hurtling across the sky in a tin can. When I came over earlier this week I didn't have a book to take with me so as a rare treat I promised myself I could get a paperback at the airport. The downstairs bookshop was closed, the departure lounge bookshop was closed, and the duty free shop didn't have any. Disaster! I didn't have my specs then, and I did think I spied something book-like across the duty free shop, but when I got there all excited I found it was boxes of place mats and therefore would probably offer me limited entertainment. In desperation I very nearly bought some colouring books and crayons, but only nearly. I found a discarded Irish Times, but had read all the depressing news I could stomach by the time we got called for the flight. Even accepted an in-flight magazine, but that had done its job by the time we started taxiing (was tempted by some of the don't-know-how-I-lived-without gadgets though). So I had to spend the whole flight wondering whether they had used the right sort of glue to stick on the wings, whether the stewards' calm demeanour was feigned (meaning their training had been first-class and we were in imminent danger) or real (meaning they didn't know we were in imminent danger), and pondering on the wisdom of having baked beans for tea before being catapulted to 36,000 feet in a pressurised container. Normally I don't sleep on a plane (fly catcher and snorer) but the effort of single-handedly mentally keeping a 737 aflight overcame me and I dozed off - only to jerk awake as I started breathing through my mouth rather than my nose to complete silence as all the engines had stopped and we were drifting uncontrollably into the earth's crust over the west country. Then I swallowed, my ears popped and all the engines roared into life again with such deafening intensity that I now knew that the real danger was that all four of them were malfunctioning at the same time. I borrowed (MSE!) a book from my sister for the journey back and it was much less eventful.

poorbutrich

Wordsmith wrote: »

I hate flying. I prefer to fly alone so that I don't have to talk to anyone and I can immerse myself in a book to take my mind off the fact that I am hurtling across the sky in a tin can. When I came over earlier this week I didn't have a book to take with me so as a rare treat I promised myself I could get a paperback at the airport. The downstairs bookshop was closed, the departure lounge bookshop was closed, and the duty free shop didn't have any. Disaster! I didn't have my specs then, and I did think I spied something book-like across the duty free shop, but when I got there all excited I found it was boxes of place mats and therefore would probably offer me limited entertainment. In desperation I very nearly bought some colouring books and crayons, but only nearly. I found a discarded Irish Times, but had read all the depressing news I could stomach by the time we got called for the flight. Even accepted an in-flight magazine, but that had done its job by the time we started taxiing (was tempted by some of the don't-know-how-I-lived-without gadgets though). So I had to spend the whole flight wondering whether they had used the right sort of glue to stick on the wings, whether the stewards' calm demeanour was feigned (meaning their training had been first-class and we were in imminent danger) or real (meaning they didn't know we were in imminent danger), and pondering on the wisdom of having baked beans for tea before being catapulted to 36,000 feet in a pressurised container. Normally I don't sleep on a plane (fly catcher and snorer) but the effort of single-handedly mentally keeping a 737 aflight overcame me and I dozed off - only to jerk awake as I started breathing through my mouth rather than my nose to complete silence as all the engines had stopped and we were drifting uncontrollably into the earth's crust over the west country. Then I swallowed, my ears popped and all the engines roared into life again with such deafening intensity that I now knew that the real danger was that all four of them were malfunctioning at the same time. I borrowed (MSE!) a book from my sister for the journey back and it was much less eventful.

You are TOO funny! This is brilliant - reminds me of a cross between Father Ted and Seinfeld!
I am exactly the same when not having a book about my person - I ended up reading a menu while waiting for my boyfriend on Sunday!

Rainy_2

Hey Wordsmith. "Interesting" diary! :rotfl: *subscribes*

The way you write is very much how I map life out in my head with the pluses and unpluses. I don't quite get it written down as well as you though!

I know from experience that it's very hard to see family members in a nursing home situation, and also being far away from those who you feel need you. Best of luck with everything, I think you are doing wonders, even if you don't feel like you are!

Plus, thanks for the genuine belly laughter from your tales of accent misinterpretations (and Kissjenn's too!) :rotfl::rotfl::rotfl::rotfl:

Luckily there was no one in the office as I guffawed! Maybe a sign that I should get some work done and not sit laughing at a screen

Wordsmith

Thanks poorbutrich and Rainy for looking in and commenting. Poorbutrich, when I was going through a dark time, some years ago, I fell into the trap of feeling very sorry for myself, so I gave myself a good talking to and decided that every night before going to sleep I would list in my head all the unpluses in my life to acknowledge them, but then list the pluses to remind myself that there was good and there was hope. But I would invariably fall asleep after the unplus list, which amused me and in itself made me feel rather ridiculous, which helped me get back on track.

Since last updating, I have just worked and done little else. Am knackered. Glad of the work, of course, I ought to say before I appear ungrateful.



Pluses

• Had work.
• Haven't yet paid this week's £50 loan repayment, but have transferred money to account to do so.
• Have eaten No chocolate since last updating. And I haven't nicked anything from the pick 'n' mix. Have been sorely tempted, but thoughts of having to fess up on here have stopped me in my tracks - so yay to MSE (again).
• Got an unexpected invoice via email for an automatic renewal of an anti-virus program that I used to use, which apparently I signed up to two years ago - on the day on which they took the money off my credit card. No warning and no option to say no thanks. That in itself is an enormous unplus, of course. The plus, however, is that as soon as I received the email I wrote back to them saying I didn't want the renewal and requested a refund [I hope to God they give me one, otherwise I am going to be €75 out of pocket for something I don't use] - I don't know that it will do any good, but the plus, to at last getting round to explaining, is that I at least tried to do something about it. When I had my finger permanently on the self-destruct button I would have gone into a fit of despair, eaten a packet of biscuits and felt helpless to do anything about it (yes, I really was that pathetic).
• Have started planning advertising material and "project" work.

Unpluses

• Nearly all current work is at low rate of pay.
• Although I have spent time thinking about advertising material and project work, I haven't spent the time actually doing it, as I promised I would on my last update. But at least I haven't let this put me off, and as soon as I get this latest proofreading job back to the publishers I will apply myself.
• Didn't make my deadline for proofreading job. Should finish it tomorrow, though, a day late.
• New Crocs have rubbed the top of one of my feet. Haven't fallen out of love with them yet, though - it is just part of the getting-to-know you phase and I'm sure all will be fine once we've had a bit more time together.
• Lots of bills to pay - little to pay them with. Am keeping strong and positive though and so far am not resorting to comfort food or wine. Am very worried about he €75 going off my credit card, though.

Ooops
Was told by a customer that another customer had died. Made all the right sorrowful noises and decided to write a sympathy card to give the next family member that came into the shop. Fortunately for me (and for him, too, as it turns out), the next member of the family to come into the shop was the deceased. :eek: He can be an awkward beggar, so was tempted to give him the card to take to his wife anyway.

Paddy
One of my favourite customers is called Paddy (yes, really - when I first moved here I was amazed at how many people are actually called this or a variation of it: Patrick, Pat, Patsy, Paddy, Pakie [went into PC overdrive when I first heard someone ask whether Pakie had been in yet], Padraig, PJ). He is 83, short and shuffling, and always has a really cheeky smile to greet you with. He came in yesterday and said he was having trouble with his application form for the driving test, so I offered to look at it for him (and wasn't surprised he was having trouble understanding it). Paddy is notorious in the area for his driving. He can't quite remember how many times he's taken the test, but thinks it is about 17 or 18. He's had a provisional licence since 1983 (and probably drove without a licence before that), and always drives around on his own (as do many learner drivers in Ireland). There's some loophole that as long as you've applied for your test, you can keep renewing your provisional licence - it doesn't matter if you fail, or even don't turn up to do the test, just so long as you've applied. Paddy said that he thought that the last time the examiner really wanted to pass him (apparently it has been the same examiner for the last 7 times), and he said that he sat there after the test was finished, scratching his head (I imagine the inner turmoil: If I pass him, I need never see him again; it really wouldn't be right to pass him; but I will never have to go through this again; no my conscience wouldn't allow it; but ...) but then failed him.

I've heard a couple of stories about Paddy's driving tests. On one occasion, the driving instructor Paddy goes to for a couple of lessons before the test, was trying to drill it home that at a certain junction on the test route, you have to move to the right to get into the correct lane ready to turn. Paddy took this on board, but was concentrating so much on getting it right, that he did the manoeuvre at the wrong junction (i.e. one where there was no extra lane) and found himself stationary, straddling the centre line and facing the oncoming traffic. The last time he failed, he came up to a red traffic light, but instead of stopping and waiting, he decided to take an unauthorised detour through a petrol station forecourt to bypass the line of traffic, and then admitted to the examiner that he always does this.

This is the dear man who brought me a box of Tampax and asked whether it was soap, and asked whether the chocolate buttons would be suitable for sewing on to his shirt (not realising they were chocolate, of course), and whether the giant box of Ariel would help people get a better reception on their TV, and put cat litter in his cat's food bowl and then wondered why they wouldn't eat it. Perhaps you get the picture as to why he's having trouble passing his driving test. I once had the misfortune to come up behind him while driving out from town one day. I followed him at about 10 miles an hour all the way home, because although there were some passing places, I didn't dare risk overtaking in case he should suddenly take it into his head to drive on the wrong side of the road, which I witnessed him doing several times as I was following him.

But what a great character, and a lovely, lovely man. Still living on his own and very independent.

boredofbeingathome

Wordsmith wrote: »

Someone recently sent me this in an email:

WARNING TO WOMEN

My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years ago. I went to sleep and woke up with someone else's thighs. It was just that quick. The replacements had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Whose thighs were these and what happened to mine? I spent the entire summer looking for my thighs. Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life in jeans. And then the thieves struck again.

My bum was next. I knew it was the same gang, because they took pains to match my new rear-end to the thighs they had stuck me with earlier. But my new bum was attached at least three inches lower than my original! I realized I'd have to give up my jeans in favour of long skirts.

Two years ago I realized my arms had been switched. One morning I was drying my hair and was horrified to see the flesh of my upper arm swing to and fro with the motion of the hairbrush. This was really getting scary - my body was being replaced one section at a time.

What could they do to me next?

When my poor neck suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a turkey neck, I decided to tell my story. Women of the world wake up and smell the coffee! Those 'plastic' surgeons are using REAL replacement body parts -stolen from you and me! The next time someone you know has something 'lifted', look again - was it lifted from you?

THIS IS NOT A HOAX. This is happening to women everywhere every night.

WARN YOUR FRIENDS!

P.S. Last year I thought some one had stolen my boobs. I was lying in bed and they were gone! But when I jumped out of bed, I was relieved to see that they had just been hiding in my armpits as I slept. Now I keep them hidden in my waistband.

Think i can relate to this one.:rotfl::rotfl:

Back to Bridget Jones Kegs as someone stole my others too:o Well that's my excuse:rolleyes:

Great updates by the way.:D

chevalier

well done on the no chocolate days. is there any reason you can't do the proof reading in england rather than ireland. And what about mystery shopping is there much call for that in ireland?
chev

poorbutrich

Wordsmith wrote: »

Ooops
Was told by a customer that another customer had died. Made all the right sorrowful noises and decided to write a sympathy card to give the next family member that came into the shop. Fortunately for me (and for him, too, as it turns out), the next member of the family to come into the shop was the deceased. :eek: He can be an awkward beggar, so was tempted to give him the card to take to his wife anyway.

Paddy
One of my favourite customers is called Paddy (yes, really - when I first moved here I was amazed at how many people are actually called this or a variation of it: Patrick, Pat, Patsy, Paddy, Pakie [went into PC overdrive when I first heard someone ask whether Pakie had been in yet], Padraig, PJ). He is 83, short and shuffling, and always has a really cheeky smile to greet you with. He came in yesterday and said he was having trouble with his application form for the driving test, so I offered to look at it for him (and wasn't surprised he was having trouble understanding it). Paddy is notorious in the area for his driving. He can't quite remember how many times he's taken the test, but thinks it is about 17 or 18. He's had a provisional licence since 1983 (and probably drove without a licence before that), and always drives around on his own (as do many learner drivers in Ireland). There's some loophole that as long as you've applied for your test, you can keep renewing your provisional licence - it doesn't matter if you fail, or even don't turn up to do the test, just so long as you've applied. Paddy said that he thought that the last time the examiner really wanted to pass him (apparently it has been the same examiner for the last 7 times), and he said that he sat there after the test was finished, scratching his head (I imagine the inner turmoil: If I pass him, I need never see him again; it really wouldn't be right to pass him; but I will never have to go through this again; no my conscience wouldn't allow it; but ...) but then failed him.

I've heard a couple of stories about Paddy's driving tests. On one occasion, the driving instructor Paddy goes to for a couple of lessons before the test, was trying to drill it home that at a certain junction on the test route, you have to move to the right to get into the correct lane ready to turn. Paddy took this on board, but was concentrating so much on getting it right, that he did the manoeuvre at the wrong junction (i.e. one where there was no extra lane) and found himself stationary, straddling the centre line and facing the oncoming traffic. The last time he failed, he came up to a red traffic light, but instead of stopping and waiting, he decided to take an unauthorised detour through a petrol station forecourt to bypass the line of traffic, and then admitted to the examiner that he always does this.

This is the dear man who brought me a box of Tampax and asked whether it was soap, and asked whether the chocolate buttons would be suitable for sewing on to his shirt (not realising they were chocolate, of course), and whether the giant box of Ariel would help people get a better reception on their TV, and put cat litter in his cat's food bowl and then wondered why they wouldn't eat it. Perhaps you get the picture as to why he's having trouble passing his driving test. I once had the misfortune to come up behind him while driving out from town one day. I followed him at about 10 miles an hour all the way home, because although there were some passing places, I didn't dare risk overtaking in case he should suddenly take it into his head to drive on the wrong side of the road, which I witnessed him doing several times as I was following him.

But what a great character, and a lovely, lovely man. Still living on his own and very independent.

Oh my goodness, I have been roaring with laughter at this! I know quite a few people who fit this description! Thanks for writing this so beautifully, you truly live up to your name Wordsmith.

Your experience with the larger-than-life deceased also made me laugh. Someone did this to me once, totally unintentionally - or at least I think so - and I saw the person in question - alive - and screamed at the top of my lungs. Wasn't sure if I was looking at a ghost!

Hope the moneysaving is going well and look forward to reading more of your adventures!

PBR x

Wordsmith

Thank you Chev and Poorbutrich for looking in and commenting.

I have a list of pluses and a somewhat rather longer list of unpluses, but everything this week has been eclipsed by the death of my beautiful, kind and gentle mum last Monday. I was already on my way but got The Call while I was at Dublin airport. The child within me was stunned and all that entered my head was 'I thought she would wait for me'.

She is being cremated next Wednesday. At the moment we just seem to be filling in an endless quantity of forms. And, of course, spending time with my dad.