May 5

 Work is done for the week. Well. The paid work. Unpaid work beckons.

It was alright. Although. Yesterday, of course, end of day, tasks were tried to be squeezed in. With a small touch of emotional blackmail at the end.

But no.

It has to wait til next week now.

I think maybe it will concentrate minds to be more efficient with my time, rather than waste it.

Despite me spending an extra day before my time off to get a bit of work done and available to test, I was not entirely surprised to find that no, no one could be arsed to do it in that month. "Couldn't schedule a time together". Right. In a month. Sure.

So all hustle my end get it done. When the buck lands at the other end of the pitch. Eh. Yeah. Can't be bothered. Can we just wait til you come back.

Uh huh.

Good to know.

There is a realisation in there that there is a pattern of do do do, go go go, for me, with a dose of emotional blackmail, but in the end, it's clearly not that important, and something that everyone else can just put off and ignore. Because ugh, doing stuff. It's hard. Am I right ? Meh.

Lesson learned.

Today started alright. Went and had a nap at lunchtime.

Brought out of sleep sharply with the words, "He's gone" rattling around my brain.

Ares. Of course. The words the vet said to me on checking his heart.

It stops me dead in my tracks. And continues to fuck me up hardcore. Bits of him blur at the edges now. I cannot quite remember somethings. But others remain crystal sharp. It haunts me. It makes me sad. Grim. Uncaring. Void. Dispairing.

Hum ho.

The world goes on. Doesn't stop for one poor doggo. Or me.

There is also something brutal in that. Another slap around the back of the head. World doesn't give a shit. Move on.

Then what is the point of any of it.

Uh huh.

There's also something of a conscious effort I need in order to combat this stuff. When I sleep, or doze, and that conscious effort slips away into dream. Is often when it hits the hardest. I have to consciously work at keeping above the shit. Figures. Fighting withdrawal.

Ho well.

Aches and pains have been kicking in super hardcore. One thing then another. This is like I was a few years ago. Crippled. I am not yet crippled, but shit, it's taking a toll. I have started popping anti inflammatories which seems to take the edge off. This is not something simple like pulling a muscle or some shit like that. It's another systemic symptom that is widespread, severe, inflammation. Who knows what's at the root of it. Just riding it out. Hopefully it fucks off. Perhaps it's connected with the whole bread thing. Possible. I'll curtail my bread consumption entirely for a few days, see if it changes anything.

Was going to get my paperwork sorted today.

I find I am just not in the mood to do shit. Desolate. Leave me alone. What's the point. Etc.

Mmm. Just. Endure the day. Tomorrow, will be a better day.