Dear Diary

A 3616-post collection

Cue "Yakety Sax"

That's "The Benny Hill Theme" to many of you dear readers. Ideal music for running about like a chook after a chook with a curly grub.

So this was yesterday:

  • Get Chaos ready for her psych visit
  • Forget to urge Mayhem into motion
  • See Beloved off to work
  • Prepare for a long-arse trip there and back again
  • Just as it's time to go, realise that Mayhem fell asleep instead of getting ready and have an emotional blowout
  • Drive Mayhem to school
  • Realise I forgot to put dinner on
  • Realise that the car I'm borrowing (because I'm picking up a dryer later on) is almost out of fuel1
  • Realise that we also forgot the entertainment and power cells at home
  • Refuel car, smashing left thumb in process
  • Run home and put dinner on
  • Realise that Chaos has lost her recharger and loan her my iPad
  • Forget sunglasses and own lunchable snacks on the countertop like a dummins
  • Realise this at the point of no return for ferrying Chaos to her shrink
  • Two hour trip to Maroochydore
  • Hurry up and wait, followed by shrink visit2
  • Phone the people who might have our new dryer (they had it! Yay!)
  • Two hour plus trip to Caloundra to get to the place that's selling the dryer
  • They won't take Beloved's card without Beloved and Beloved's ID attached
  • Phone Beloved, who then orders the damn thing online (I had to read them their own dang card)
  • Pony up to the front desk with order number, ID, and my own assurance that yes, we are SO's
  • Get paperwork to fetch the dryer
  • Rattle around to the back of the shop to pick it up
  • Hurry up and wait, followed by actually getting the dang thing in the car
  • Drive home (roughly half an hour)
  • Get 1000 kilograms of dryer (I shit you not) out of the dang car so that both my kids can fit in
  • Also get same mass of dryer into the house in case weather
  • Half hour breather in the AC (::angel sounds::)
  • Fetch Mayhem
  • Collapse

And during all this, my longest, bestest friend is having a crisis because everyone else in the world has lead in their butts. Stay strong, friendo, everything will come into place. Trust in providence. Sometimes, aggressively so.

And this is today:

  • See Beloved off to work
  • Organise both little darlings for school
  • Do my Instant
  • Go to my shrink for what could possibly be an official diagnosis after 40-some years of just being bizarre
  • Sometime in there, do more work on my novel
  • Come home and DO SOME FIRKIN LAUNDRY FFS
  • Slot in time for some semi-serious doodles for the Sleep Evil Sleep project (which I am also having panic fits about)
  • Slot in some time to work on a project for an online alias I have
  • Somehow arrange dinner3
  • Fetch the kids
  • And probably collapse

And this is all before I get smeared with the Fuckup Factor. If yesterday's comedy of errors is any precedent, I'm in for an entirely sideways week. Because it includes swapping my license plates for cool new personalised ones, which also includes a run-around, paperwork and hurry-up-and-wait :P

And we still haven't got back to doing our exercises as of yet.

Urghh...

  1. Thanks, my love, for never firkin checking that until it's nearly too late.

  2. And some time in here, do some work on my book...

  3. At this point, I am certain that it's going to be yesterday's dinner with more veg thrown in and a little more water.

AUGH!

Our dryer is officially dead on a day when we need it the most, what with the sky deciding that today is a lovely day to frell up my plans to actually slot in some firkin laundry before the day really gets hot.

For the record, it's already 25C (78F) at half-past six in the morning, and humid with it. Bleh. And it only promises to get hotter and muggier throughout the remains of the day.

This is the sort of weather

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Schedule changes

My love has new employment. Which will include new hours, apparently. I'm already laying bets as to whether they will hold. But Beloved swears that they will keep hours between 7:30AM and 3:30PM. Which means our morning physical jerks will transform into afternoon exercises and probably gassing about a great many things.

I'm looking forward to exercising again.

I'm also browsing the news and it looks like there might be a National Women's Strike in protest against the 27% pay

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Vital statistics

This Saturday Statistics is marred by the fact that we've run out of some of our blood sticks. So all my blood levels are "no data" until we get more of them. Bonus - I don't have to stick my finger with a sharp object for a little while.

And after that tiniest of small mercies, from last week:

Weight: 78.5 kg
Fat weight: 32.8 kg
Waist/Height: 0.529
Blood Sugar: no data
Blood Ketones: no data
Breath Ketones:

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All's well

I did an IPC meeting at Chaos' school today and she is having zero problems with class. I may have also volunteered to help with the English part of the curriculum.

And I'll be talking to a class where some of the kids don't even want to write a sentence. Mind you, the sentence starters are kind of dull and nobody likes sentences like that.

But the way to start a story is with a good sentence. I need to go gather

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Getting into the swing of it

It's taken us a few weeks, but we're getting there. Even with the recent gastric distress, there's a rhythm to things.

Get up, ablute, take my weight - I'm still below 80 kilos despite bouncing back from the bug. Rouse the kids, get dressed, chase my little darlings into getting ready for the day. Chaos packs a three course meal, Mayhem packs a boiled egg or two. Make sure they're both groomed, and then try and get Beloved going for the day.

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mrbldyglr...

I messed up my sleep cycle again, which means I can't really tell if I'm still sick or not. One of my wake-up routines is a whole bunch of sneezing.

I made the mistake of trying to sleep at 3AM, so I'm tired as hell. With all good luck, I shouldn't need a coffee, but if I do, we now have xylitol. An all-natural sweetener that tastes like sugar but doesn't set off the insulin responses. And I managed to grab the

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Good News, Bad News

Good news: Beloved is on the mend.

Bad news: It took seven hours in hospital and three litres of saline drip to restore their health. And to add insult to injury, they couldn't figure out what was wrong with them.

Good news: I have my appetite back.

Bad news: I'm still tired as all get-out.

Beloved's had plenty of time to read up on random stuff, and it might actually be the magnesium compounds I've been taking because magnesium is good for

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Downward Spiral

I'm going down with whatever persistent thing this is. I can feel it. My batteries are low, my tasks are large, and I do not anticipate respite at any time soon.

And when I do get it, nobody else will be there to make sure I don't need medical intervention. Thanks, family. I understand you have places you need to be and all, but I'd like someone to decide that isn't very important compared to the health of this particular loved one.

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House of Pestillence

We have a tummy bug in the house. Beloved copped it the worst, and the shaking finger of suspicion points solidly at the bacon we had in our dinner on Thursday night. They have been able to eat real food on Friday, but only for dinner.

It's nasty, whatever this is. I don't think it's entirely the bacon's fault. It could well be a contributing factor in lowering body reserves etc. etc.

I've crashed hard enough to catch chicken pox three more

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Well, crap.

I might have poisoned my Beloved with bad bacon, I'm suffering less because I only had one helping, but there's still suffering. The curtain in the lounge room has fallen down for the last time and I don't think I have the technical whatsit to put up the new one. I could assist my love, but... my love doesn't want to leave close access to the ensuite.

I have yet to take any of my supplements, which is probably why I want

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I'm Sorry For the Mess

Yesterday, as things are wont to do, things went completely do-lally because I've been fretting about MeMum's health.

The good news is that Mum's been tested and found not showing any signs of Senior Dementia. Halleluja. I've also seen signs that Mum's Vaguely-Waving-At-the-Mediterranean-From-Very-Far-Away Diet is actually working for her, so far. MeMum and I are keeping a weather eye on her triglyceride levels, and I know what to do to help IF mum wants said help.

We also both forgot to ask

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::William Tell Overture::

Run! Gotta run! Gotta get up and then drive down to MeMum. To MeMum. To MeMum. To MeMum. To MeMum. To MeMum. To MeMuuuuuuuuum...

And that's where I run out of meter, alas. Wasn't even going to try for rhyme. I only get that clever when I'm rat-faced tired, and I don't get rat-faced tired any more. Thanks, Keto.

Today is the big day. And like all big days, I have already had my 3AM panic session including a little taste of

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Milestones!

For the first time in my life, I do not feel exhausted after doing sprints. In this case, 674 meters on the rowing machine, set to Maximum.

For the first time in my life, I have properly pink fingernails. As in, no longer pale and vaguely pinkish, but mostly vaguely purple-ish.

For the first time in my life, I can easily remember the day of the week and what date it is. I always needed some assistance with that one.

For the

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My mornings are full

At least so far. The good news is that Chaos is taking a bus to and from school. The bad news is that I have to be home at a certain time to be sure that she's home safe and sound.

Good thing I already have a nice chair on the verandah. I can camp there with a lappy or a tablet and do something creative whilst I wait.

Beloved and I are making a helper site for all kinds of people.

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