Tag Archives: meh

May 14 2014
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Emotions

Named and Shamed…

named and shamedIt’s been a difficult ten days, coming to terms with these sporadic black episodes encroaching on my life.

Not only that, there are also other complicated things going on (same for all of us?).

Luckily, a few days ago, the clouds disappeared and Technicolor seeped back into my life once more. What could possibly go wrong?

This evening I had a tweet, directed at me. It mentioned me by my Twitter handle and read, ‘Know who your friends are….were  #hurt #hatefully #movingon’. I won’t name the person (I’m not that low), but they have almost a thousand followers. So my ‘name’ and ‘crime’ has now been transmitted to them too. Nice.

Believe me, there are two sides to every story and most certainly in this one. I only write about this as it was the last thing I needed today. What does, ‘Know who your friends are’ mean? Vaguely threatening/chastising.

There’s ways and means of raising grievances. A couple of weeks ago I vented about a friend who let me down, but I ranted without mentioning the person’s name. Instead, we exchanged private messages. The problem still isn’t resolved and probably never will be, but at least we were fairly dignified.

‘An Inspector Calls’ was a book I read in school and have never forgotten. If you haven’t read it, it essentially sums up that just a ‘tiny’ thing amongst many others can drive someone to the brink. The straw that breaks the camel’s back. I’m not saying that’s the same here, but the kernel remains the same.

I didn’t need to have this tonight. Maybe that’s what they wanted. If so, and I know they follow my blog, hey, well done.

On a lighter note, as, after all, my blog is about showing the more humorous side to MS, here are today’s stats:

  • Tripped over in work – 6 times
  • Number of times told off by boss – over 20
  • Body-swerves around bannister – 3
  • Slips in shower – 2
  • Slices of toast and Nutella The Teenager has eaten – 4
  • Substitutions in Ocado order – none! Yay!

I am off to volunteer at a Newly-Diagnosed Day tomorrow. I was that person two years ago, so hopefully I can impart some wisdom….

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May 07 2014
8 Comments
The Teenager

Welcome Chez Stumbling….

no vacancyMe: ‘You treat this place like a hotel’ (am I really saying this?)

Teenager: ‘Yeah? So sack the maid’ (chortle, snicker)

We have reached that Awkward Stage, lasting roughly from 9 months to 18 years of age.

The Teenager has re-written the rules of polite house-sharing, so here are his:

  • Welcome to Hotel de la Stumbling! We hope you’ll have a comfortable stay (for years and years). Come in and don’t worry about taking off your muddy rugby boots/wet school shoes/soaked jackets. Just tramp through the house and make vacuuming that little bit more challenging. Drop your coat anywhere – we will pick up and return to the allotted coat-hook at no extra effort to you. We aim to make you feel at home.
  • Perhaps you fancy a shower to freshen up? Feel free to use the host’s very expensive shampoo (for fine hair, in need of tender loving care), imported at great expense from America. And of course, there’s no need to pick up the towels or flush the toilet. You must use as much toilet roll as your heart desires. Why not end your luxurious experience by spraying yourself liberally (and then some) with a selection of our finest Lynx deodorants?
  • As for on-site catering, we offer a home-cooked meal every day and should that not suit, we also offer an out-of-hours service whereby you may sneak down late in the evening to make toast and Nutella. As always, please don’t feel it is necessary to clean up after yourself. We are more than delighted to attend to this.
  • Taxi service – always available. However, please be aware, last minute bookings are discouraged. We do request patrons allow us at least five minutes notice. Furthermore, any detours must be agreed with your driver, for example, to ensure we have the correct money for a drive-thru McDonalds.
  • Guests. We naturally welcome any friends you may wish to bring back to our establishment, however we politely request you limit the number to five, with no more than two overnight. Extra Domino’s pizza can be arranged upon request.

We hope you enjoy your extended stay. Just one minor point – it may be helpful if you open your curtains at least once a day week. And we seem to have less crockery in the kitchen than usual. Finally, should you enjoy a tub of ice cream in your bedroom, please refrain from throwing out the spoon…

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Feb 14 2013
8 Comments
My Ramblings

Flowers, Who Needs ‘Em?

Yes, as you’ve guessed by the blog title, I am a singleton on Shameless Commercialism Day Valentine’s Day. But the good news is, I had a Valentine’s card!  The bad news is, it was from Tom,  the 89 year old pensioner I check in on.

Well, at least I’m not working in an office any more. Long gone are those awful days when everyone else received  bouquets of flowers, accompanied by ‘oh, I didn’t know that was going to happen’ squeals from various women jumping up and down at the sight of a few roses.

The same women who, a week earlier, could be heard saying in the toilets, ‘…I’ve told him, if he doesn’t send me flowers this year, he can whistle for, you know…’

Now my inadequacy is shared only with the cat (she watches the letterbox every day) and she’s on my side. I whinge to friends that I hate the tacky commercialism of Valentine’s Day and my heart sinks when all the gooey stuff appears in the shops just after Christmas. No sooner have the ‘Merry Christmas, my squidgy, squashy Boyfriend’ cards been packed away, I’m assaulted by a sea of red and pink. And roses. And fluffy little teddy bears with ‘I Wuv You’ scrawled across their chests.

And what’s this whole thing with chocolates? Oi, loved-up people, you get the flowers, you get the meal out, you get the jewellery. Can’t you keep your smug little paws off the chocolate – it’s for  us single ladies. See it as our consolation prize.

Of course, if I was loved-up, I would be starry-eyed with rapture at being presented with a dozen red roses, a Tiffany necklace and a huge box of pralines (my favourites). I would benevolently smile down upon the lesser, single mortals, with pity and not a little smugness. May they too find love, poor, sad, lonely peeps. But I’m not loved-up, so I can’t. Sniff.

This Valentine’s Day then, I will mostly be listening to ‘I Am Woman’ (over and over again), hoovering up the Maltesers I stashed away from The Teenager and sitting on the sofa in my comfiest, slobbiest pyjamas. I may even put a face pack on and paint my toenails. Valentine’s Day? Meh…

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