Yesterday was my last day at Key Enterprises. It is a charity for people with mental health problems; it provides routine and teaches various skills. I have been going there for a little over two years - during that time I have met quite a few people, learned how to refinish furniture, taught myself pyrography, and improved in terms of mental health. Unfortunately they have lost funding and are closing; I decided not to attend this Thursday as I am going up to Aberdeen, so yesterday was my last day. I gave people cards, and left cards and small presents for the other two still attending my department, who are not in on Mondays. I was given a few cards and a small bunch of flowers, which was very nice. I walked out with two carrier bags full of stuff - books, material, bits of wood; with a stitch-picker in one pocket and a dozen nails in the other. And I knew it was coming but I am still sad and kind of confused.

Today I have been doing very little - I skipped my evening class, again, but I will go back in January and do my best not to miss another time. But this year my present-making has branched out into woodwork, so I have just been doing that, and managed to injure myself. If I had sanded my knuckles, or hit my hand with a hammer, or cut myself with a stanley knife or a saw or whatever, I would not have been surprised. But I cut myself with a drill.

Cut yourself with a drill, you say? How in the world did you manage that?

Well, it was a good drill, and a not-so-good drill bit. I was working on top of a big wooden toolbox, holding the wood in place with my foot (it is a two-handed drill). And as I attempted to drill a second hole right next to the first, the drill slipped, the tip hit the work surface, the bit bent, and as the drill wound down, the tip of the whirling drill bit caught my foot. It bled.

I should have bought myself a vice before I started. Or at least been wearing shoes.
So, some stuff has happened - not a great deal, but some, still, and anyway.

I signed up to do a craft fair, and then it got postponed to last weekend because of a fire at the venue, and hardly any customers came, and I sold one keyring, which doesn't even cover my bus fare, and I tweaked my knee carrying all my shit home again. But I am giving them another chance and doing their next fair in about a month and if that is crap then I will stop throwing good money after bad.

My bank account is looking a bit unhappy as I have been spending more money than usual lately - with the craft fair, getting in a bunch of stuff to work on, and a few random bits and pieces, and also with yarn, of course. My stash is increasing because whenever I want something for a specific pattern I seem to wind up buying other stuff as well. I have been knitting a variety of baby stuff - oh, hey! reading back I see that I have not actually posted about that.

My sister is pregnant, due in a little over two months. It is the first spawn of the next generation, so it is all rather exciting and as I say, I have been knitting a bunch of stuff. She was down for work last weekend and has quite the bump, and I have just about got past calling it a parasite.

Also I had one of those moments where you think of the perfect retort ten minutes too late, because she made a comment about me going grey - I have a visible sprinkling, which I find quite amusing, especially being the youngest, and with the whole thing about Katie Holmes going grey when she is like five years older than me and not as 'bad' - and what I should have said is that she'll obviously catch up once she has the kid.

Eh. Stuff.

Oh, and Key - where I go to do the furniture stuff - has lost its NHS funding, which is what pays for me and most of the other clients to go there. So that stops at the end of the year, and since there will only be a few folk still going unless they get a training contract or something, there's a decent chance the whole place will close down. Which sucks, because I like it and it's been really good for me, and... yeah.

Also I have a lump on my finger where I scratched it the other day, except I didn't think I broke the skin so I don't know why it has gone lumpy. Hopefully it will go away by itself but if it gets worse I am totally going to the doctor because it would suck if my finger fell off. Not that that's likely, but, well. Better safe than sorry.
Weird day. Well, evening, rather.

Crappy day, because my digestive system has gone a bit haywire. I got myself together enough to go to the shop and get some lemonade, crackers and paracetamol, and at the checkout the woman asked if I was all right and if I would like a glass of water - I think she thought I had a sore throat or something, but I was just talking like I felt utterly pathetic and hadn't actually used my voice yet.

About ten minutes ago, someone knocked at my door, moving up from fumbling at the letterbox to banging by the time I got jeans on and went to answer. Drunk old guy, leaning on the door, asking for Julie, then Shona, and I said, "no, just me," and immediately regretted it, but he sort of stumbled away. I think he tried another door, but I'm pretty sure I can still hear him out on the stairs, and I think he puked. I'm not going to go investigate. (Also, I never replaced the chain on my door which was broken before I moved in. Probably I should do that.)

And I just got a phone call, from one of the guys who delivered my carpets over a year ago, with whom I exchanged a couple of texts at the time, having given him my number because I was flattered and attempting to be "more outgoing" etcetera. Wound up hanging up on him, which I think was the most efficient way of dealing with the situation.

Oh crap, drunk guy's back at my door.

ETA: ignored it, he gave up pretty fast and I heard movement, but I think he's still out there. Also, my phone just rang again - ignored that too.

Nothing like either of these things has happened to me... pretty much ever, actually. And here I am, with both of them, at once, after a day spent feeling sorry for myself with more justification than usual.

ETAA: drunk guy tried again and I answered, to see blood on his face. I asked if he was all right, and if he was sure he was in the right place, and closed the door on him again, and I just heard the main door go bang, so he's gone. I can hear someone talking to him outside, actually - well, I assume it's him, since, "you all right?" is a major component. Maybe I should have done more, but he didn't seem seriously hurt (if he had I'd have called an ambulance) and I don't like strangers in my house and considering I live alone, not letting in a drunk guy seems perfectly reasonable. So there.
I still exist, btw.

Christmas was pretty good - took the train up to sister's near Aberdeen, which was even prettier than usual due to snow, but the carriage had no heating. Anyway. That happened, and I finished her jumper at around 2a.m. on Christmas Day, and a box from a website with about five presents in didn't arrive until the 29th so I had to go to the shops on the 22nd and get replacements, and such. And I have not actually seen any family yet this year because when Dad came over the other day I was out. Um.

I had an [ profile] edithmatilda for the New Year, that was nice. She brought me presents and made me tea.

On the way back from the shop this evening I saw a fox, it was in a garden and when I stopped to look at it, it just looked back at me for a second then got on with sniffing around the grass.

I have been writing bits of fic for Inception, half of which were written before I had even seen the damn film, and have created a sock-journal for it, because I am made of twitchiness.

Today I applied for a job with the help of a woman at Working Links. And I am guaranteed an interview. Which is vaguely terrifying but distant enough to be no more than that.

Oh! I am apparently dead! At the doctors last week, he tried to take my blood pressure - twice on the left arm, then once on the right, then he got another machine and tried again, and he got an error message each time, so clearly I am some kind of alien being. Or maybe I'm a wizard fucking up technology. That would really suck, actually, I get upset when my internet dies - it did that the other day because I'd accidentally hit the switch for the wireless adapter and I was really twitchy about it.

I am totally not procrastinating the next bit of my stupid WIP. Not at all.
So, on Saturday, I abseiled off Finnieston Crane, which is a Glasgow landmark, and pictures exist. Apparently I really ought to set the calendar on my camera. Hmm. Anyway, it was scary but fun and I raised £117 for a couple of worthy charities (which are not actually my favoured charities but clearly have epic fundraisers). I did fall on my arse when I reached the bottom, because my legs were not sure about holding me.

Um, I have not been posting much. For a while I was posting updates for teh nos' while she was in hospital, and I was visiting a lot. My life has not been tremendously happening. I have a couple of epic bruises on my leg right now, one from a flippy seat on a bus and one from tripping up some metal stairs.

Tonight I had my first pottery class! It was mostly demonstrations, in the end I made three tiles and I will paint them next week, probably. I will try and have a go on one of the wheels next week as well, it looks tremendous fun if quite difficult.

Also I had a go at making paper today, I will not know how it has worked until the pieces dry, which they are doing at the moment.

Um. Yeah.
"Come and sing," says my sister G.

"Yeah, ok," say I.

G didn't mention the part where she was one of the people organising it, and thus I was automatically drafted to carry things hither and yon, and watch the ticket table for a bit. I didn't mind, really. The whole thing was quite fun, we were singing Lux Aeterna by Morten Lauridsen, which is generally reasonably simple with some tricky bits, so we managed quite well on just a few hours of rehearsal. Also various people talked to me. (Also some people thought I was G until they got closer.) Also I drew a bit, which is something I have been trying.

I finally got to meet her cats, as well! Random was fairly aloof; about the closest I got to him was when he emerged from under my bed. Cassie was willing to share her couch with me (and is kind of a slut for pettings).

Also I was reading books about proper diet and such and today when I got back I ate a pack of meringues and a big bar of chocolate. Hmm. I have been trying to be wheat-free, and I thought it wouldn't be a problem this weekend because G has a bunch of intolerances; but every day I was there, I was too tempted - chocolate cake, a little sponge cake with awesome icing, yorkshire pudding. Maybe two weeks mostly-free was enough and now I am trying it again? I dunno. But I am quite worried I might have to give up flour, because apparently if you crave something particular it might well be bad for you, and I do love my bread. And cakes. And biscuits. :(

Also we watched the new Sherlock Holmes film, which I didn't get round to seeing in the cinema, and I have little to say except omg Holmes and Watson with the snark and the kickass and the clothes-sharing, yes please.
Seem to be coming down with a minor plague. Sigh.

Am now doing three days a week at Key. Am a bit worried my dept will run out of things for me to do and I'll get turfed over to put things in folders one day a week, or something. Maybe I will start taking in my own projects on Fridays.

Had dinner with parentals, it was surprisingly painless - I guess it is easier to tolerate the blah-blah-blather when it is not every day.

Next-door-neighbour's loud girlfriend is visiting. She is American - I know this because I can hear her through the walls. And he seems to use some sleep-music, or something - I've heard it a couple of times, just the top notes coming through, which means it's repetitive and irritating and if I'm trying to get to sleep at three a.m. I need to get some white noise going to block it. At first used radio tuned to static, but this site is useful; I like the brown noise best.

I have not been knitting since I finished the bloomers - I am going to pick one of my yarns out of the stash and find something to make with it.

But right now I am going to attempt sleep.
I have not gone to choir because I am coughing and sneezing and do not want to infect people. This is the fourth rehearsal I have missed so technically I am supposed to talk to, um, someone, to let me be in the concert after missing so many; but I am a tenor and they've been begging for more of us so I doubt it'll actually be an issue. (I missed one out of not realising it had started, one out of laziness, and one out of sleeping through it. Yes, it is an evening rehearsal.) I have been awake all day, it is terrible.

I have read three of my library books, here are a few comments.

The Subversive Stitch: Embroidery and the Making of the Feminine by Roszika Parker. Read more... )
The Archimedes Codex by Reviel Netz and William NoelRead more... )
Normal by Amy Bloom Read more... )

I went to psych-man today, it was not bad, but sometimes I feel like we are repeating outselves; and just because I know something intellectually does not mean I believe it, and he seems to expect otherwise, which is just silly. Some interesting thoughts about self-narrative, how I represent myself as opposed to how others experience me, etc. And I was on time, for once.

Ugh, I have been awake All Day (since before nine in the morning!) and my nose is sore and my throat is tickly and my Lemsip is three years expired, I don't know how that happened. ETA: Now I have run out of tissues. Sigh.
The other day - late on Sunday evening, actually - I woke up to find my hand was oddly red. I think it's a reaction to the dye on my pillow, or something, but it's made me pretty glad I sleep with the pillow that way up, because otherwise it would be my face; and my hand is still red. It looks and feels quite like a sunburn, so I have moisturised and hope that will help.

I did not go to therapy today even though I was awake. Last week kinda sucked. I'm not even sure what we were talking about any more, but there were tears and awkward silences. I just remembered he's on holiday next week, woo. I spend a lot of time avoiding thinking. This is probably not good for me but last time I lay quietly and thought, it was about getting another tattoo and/or piercing just for the endorphin buzz, which is basically self-harm that also hurts the wallet. Ugh. This is why I don't have a brain any more, I use too much of it stopping other bits of it from doing anything. And there isn't even anything particularly bad in there.

Now I am going to choir to sing loud things; that is good.
*iz ded*

Got up at eight, which is an obscene time on a Sunday morning, to find toilet overflowing. Finally got the pipe working again around half-eleven, at which time dad arrived (it was kinda spooky, actually) and wanted to start work on the other pipe, so I hung around watching and fetched and carried. I have been up and down those stairs at least two dozen times today and I am TIRED. Yes, I know I am unfit, I plan to work on it, but this is not the way to do it. Also five of those trips were carrying a big bucket of water down to the drain in the road. Anyway. Dad left a bit after one, having unblocked that pipe as well, and bought me some more gas, which is good. I have poured warm salty water down the sinks. The bathroom still smells bad.

I am just back from the shop, because I was in dire need of caffeinated sweeteners (aka diet coke) and food with instructions on it. My legs are sore. I may take a nap now. Of course, a nap now could turn into sleep until tomorrow, but I am a bit incompetent without enough sleep. Last night I nearly gassed myself because I went downstairs and found the blowtorch not working because of cold, so I brought it back up, and forgot to actually turn it off until I smelled it. Sometimes I think if I was braver I'd totally have won a Darwin award by now, because I may be intelligent but that depends on me actually thinking about things.
ARGH. So my debit card ran out at the end of November, and while I knew this was going to happen I forgot about it until I tried to use a cash machine a few days into December. A few days later, I managed to get to the bank and stand at the counter for what seemed like a very long time while the woman consulted with other people (she was very nice about it, btw) and found out that apparently another card had been issued two years ago which was why I had not automatically got a new one, because one was still active even though I don't remember ever getting it and never used it, unless they were talking about my credit card which I got about then (but they shouldn't be, surely) and then I got some money and went away to wait. And my card arrived a few days ago.

So today, having just about run out of the money I got that day (and having previously worked through my emergency stash and stupidly not replaced it) I went to the cash machine. It said my PIN was incorrect. Now, the letter with the card said my old PIN would be used unless I requested a new one, so I'm thinking one of two things has happened. 1) the old PIN they copied was from the card that I never used, which may not even exist, or 2) the woman at the bank requested a new PIN and I just haven't got it yet. I pessimistically expect it to be the former, so I am going to go to the bank tomorrow and attempt to wrangle some kind of resolution. Just, just, argh.

And I barely slept last night and I had to wash my hair in cold water this morning because my gas money ran out and I couldn't seem to access the emergency credit even though it said I had some and I've been around people all day and I made a stupid mistake giving money to a shop assistant and and and... and probably dad will be over in a bit unless I call to deter him. And one of the women at Key gave people presents and she gave me a matching hat-and-scarf-and-gloves set, which, meh. She probably bought it before I started bringing my knitting in, which is something, but I like the hat and scarf and gloves I have even though they do not match. And it is really fucking cold outside. And I will go before I find anything else to complain about.
So today I got up to go to the shrink. I have not seen him for the last three weeks: first he was on holiday, then I completely failed at getting out of bed, then last week he was sick. Turns out this week he is still sick. And I didn't realise until I got to the hospital that I'd gone out without putting on a bra. Well, I just had to go out the door and get the bus, which was just arriving, so there wasn't much walking around or anything, but it was odd.

He hasn't even seen my hair yet, I am sure he will have something to say about it. I chopped it off a few weeks ago and attacked it with my clippers and it is all short, I like it. Reactions at Key were mostly positive; I got one "Jesus Christ what happened to you?" and a couple more 'shock', one "your beautiful long hair" and one person not recognising me, but a number of "that actually really suits you."

I meant to go into town afterward, but I went to the shop for food and then I came home and instead of putting on a bra and going straight back out I lay down for just a little while which turned into about five hours. Oh well. Tomorrow will do. I really do need to, though, because it is to finish buying christmas presents. I am knitting some, also, need to finish a couple by this weekend because Mau is having a tree-decorating party (because some of us will be elsewhere for christmas) and then I can leave them there.

Ho-hum. Also, here is a video of octopusses.

I tend to think it has a fairly broad definition - basically anything Not Straight - but I think some people use it interchangeably with gay. So I'm not sure. Any ideas? I'm still swithering over what to put on my facebook profile, you see.

Also, I was at the shrink talking about my oddness and how I was always odd to some degree, and then I got home and the computer wasn't picking up wifi and I freaked a little, but off-and-on-again worked. Useful diagnostic, actually, because I know I should be picking up about ten locked networks, so if I'm not getting anything, it's not my network, it's my computer.

Also I have finally finished my cross-stitch kit of the Dales Way. See? Odd.
The night before last, I slept at the flat; I did not sleep well, but that was good because it meant I was awake when the cooker was delivered just after seven a.m.

Yesterday I had the back of my right wrist stabbed repeatedly with a tiny inky needle.

Today I was at the flat again. The carpets were delivered (and one of the delivery guys said he wanted to be my friend and asked for my number and I said OK but I did not answer when he called later and now I am, um, confused and indecisive) and later a guy came and fitted the cooker, so it works, and then Dad and I made attempts at putting down underlay and fitting carpet and discovered I had forgotten about the doorways when I measured so it is not quite big enough really. And I noticed that Colours Matt in Lemon Ice, and Colours Matt One Coat in Lemon Ice, are not actually the same colour and it shows in artificial light, which is a bitch because I fixed bits on one with the other, so now I basically have to repaint the whole hall.
I just measured myself and it was depressing even though I don't really care about these things. And I already knew I had a big head, I shouldn't be annoyed that I apparently take an XL. (This was what prompted the measuring; I was randomly looking at hats and didn't know what size I would be.) I'm allowed to be annoyed that my latest ebay purchase probably won't fit because I misremembered my waist, though. Meh, bah, etc.

Parentals have buggered off for the week which is quite nice really, except for the part where the flat is so close to done we could probably have finished it this week if they hadn't; also sister was here for a couple of days and we took stuff to the flat and went to Ikea (and I managed not to buy anything! ...this time)

Today I ignored the phone then I got out of bed and took two buses to see psychotherapist-man and found out he had called in sick, which was what the phone call was about. Actually I was quite happy about that because I was not in a talking mood at all, so I went to the flat and did a little cleaning and a little plastering and finally took the horrible doors off the cupboard, which I wanted to do months ago but paternal stopped me for reasons that apparently made sense to him. Then I went to B&Q and did not actually get the paint I went for because it was not on the shelf and of course I could not ask a person, but I did get the other stuff on my list; also I saw a quite cheap big playmat with roads on which I may have to buy instead of a grown-up rug, for the time being at least. I can has style, dammit.

I plan to do stuff tomorrow but it depends on me waking up. Also on the weather. It rained today and I would not have left the house if not for the appointment that I didn't really have. I think that is fair. And if I sleep tomorrow I should wake up the next day. So. Yes.
I keep forgetting to post but I am in Newcastle with an [ profile] edithmatilda and a Kitten and a Jack and a Clancy, and have been since Wednesday, and shall be until tomorrow.

I wore my new boots and did not realise that given how new they were they would need broken in so I took some skin off the back of my ankles and immediately upon arrival went to find flip-flops, which I have been wearing since. It was very hot and sunny. Then the sky opened and threw water at us.

I have yet more burns on me. Ho-hum.

Awake at a ridiculous hour again, this time because I was sick. Now I have two muffins sitting on the floor - the remainder of a fourpack - which I am scared to eat. And a bottle of coke I am scared to drink. One of the other things I ate yesterday is toast, so I am scared to eat that as well, which is a bitch because that's my usual post-puking put-something-in-stomach food. Not that I do this often enough to have a usual, but you know what I mean.

If it wasn't one of them, it was the fish supper, or just the influx of greasy food over the last couple of days - I usually eat like crap, but more towards the processed end than grease. Or I didn't wash my hands enough after coming back from the flat and accidentally poisoned myself.

Unfair, body. Unfair.
I went to sleep at a decent hour last night, resulting in being awake at an indecent hour on this sunny Sunday morning (and now I have said that, the rain will return). I had to get up and placate my belly.

I would like to go back to sleep but it does not seem like it will happen.

i would like a lot of things that do not seem like they will happen.

I am actually in a reasonable mood at the moment so I will shut up before I mess that up.
I thought I had lost my camera, having gone round the room looking in and under things, but I picked up one more thing and there it was. Huzzah.

I have this bad habit, you see, of putting things in visible places and then putting other things on top of them, or knocking them over, or suchlike. Occasionally I put things in 'safe places' - this is a family joke, because my mother used to do that, and then forget where exactly said place was, and we once got christmas presents in, um, April? Or I toss things down at random. Or I put a bunch of unrelated things in a bag, usually to take them downstairs or bring them back, and then I leave them there, and when I look in said bag I'll only see what's on top and assume that's what that bag is for. So. My life would be easier if I was tidier. Or had less stuff. Or had more storage. (I can't wait to be in my flat.)

Also, having worn my copper ring for no more than two hours, my thumb has a greenish tinge to it. Yay.
Today I spent over five hours at the flat, painting on goo and stripping off wallpaper and painting on primer and stripping off goo-ed stuff. I am really freaking sore now so I am running myself a bath.

As far as I know parentals are back tomorrow, so I have been tidying some more - I did actually do some tidying earlier on, so there was not a whole lot. And I emptied the tumble-dryer yesterday. But on the way home, about half-way from the bus-stop, I paused, because I had the sudden thought that they might be back, and if they were I didn't want to come back. That's not what home is. Sigh.

I was going to say the only thing I will miss is the cats. But I won't miss the yowling and the puking and the fighting and the pissing and the occasional dead animals. So I won't miss much at all, really.

I know the flat is basically all I'm talking about right now but it's most of what I'm doing right now, so.

Yay, bathtime. My shoulders will thank me.



June 2012

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