Jun 17

 A few days of not feeling too bad. Far from perfect. But eh, I'll take it.

The trip down to the office on Wednesday went ok. Journey was a horror, traffic all over the show, an hour and 50 trip was turned into 2 and a half hours. Coming back home in the late afternoon I was knackered. I think that's the longest time spent in a car in a single day I've had since becoming ill. And it was super tiring.

Whilst down there Andy did a bunch of soft peddling reverse asking.

How were the two days working out. How was I doing for money. Are you ok. He wouldn't mind if I wanted to throw a few more days in for money.

Yeah, fine.

Because. He would like it if I did three days.

Uh huh.

Maybe three days every couple of weeks.

Uh huh.

So we actually get to it.

I thought about it more than I should have. About 20 seconds. It seemed so reasonable. Clearly he was struggling.

Not interested I said.

In hindsight it has underscored once again, this aint my path. It's good money for Andy, the company, makes sense, yada blah. But not for me. And there is a smell of exploitation there. 

When I visited I noted that Andy had rearranged the office again, dropped a load of cash on the look of things. He is somewhat obsessed by it. I get it. But also. It leans into the whole pissing money up walls thing again that he absolutely cannot resist. Mini fridges stocked. Personalised pens. Personalised employee uniforms ( which, to me, I find just a little creepy, and is the FIRST IT company I've been in that does that ).

Don't get me wrong. Andy is also a nice guy. But also. Yeah. People are rarely all one thing or the other. And his direction is definitely not mine.

I popped in to see my brother after the work meeting. Which I wasn't sure I was going to do as of a few weeks ago. Didn't want to stay too long away from Athena. Felt a bit weird.

Eh. In hindsight being an idiot. It was soothing just hanging out with my brother. We chatted about this and that. And I was glad I had been.

CFS service sent me a letter. I missed an appointment with them. So unless they heard from me, they were going to take me off their books.

The appointment in question was sent to me via a hinky google docs link that wanted your password. From the NHS.

Yeah. No. For starters, that's dodgy as hell. Secondly, super not professional - your actual NHS service just using shitty google docs links from some personal share.

So I couldn't access the time. And there was no other contact details. Zip. Nada. No thought about, wait, what it someone can't access this.

Which, all in all, sounds about right. The NHS have absolutely piss poor IT knowledge, professionalism and security standards.

But I kinda get punished for their failings.

Which again, sounds about right.

I can't be bothered with it to be honest. So I think I will just let them expire me. They had cancelled the previous meeting anyway. So I think January was the last time I had spoken to someone.

Heh. Some aspects of the modern world do seem to feel like they are desperately clinging on by their fingernails. Politics, processes et al seem to be at their breaking point. I don't think the system works anymore. It's just momentum at this point. Lingering 20th century ghosts. The 21st century is yet to resolve which way everything will go.

Abominably sad yesterday at points. Real. Hardcore. Knife in guts. Slippery, silvery pain. Triggered by watching something. But not really the fault of what I was watching. Just a reflection of where and who I am. So much pain and sorrow just sitting under the surface mask. I ended up crying myself to sleep. As you do.

Ah well. No one ever said life was a happy wonderful skippy experience.

Positives.

Hopefully. I can hold off feeling awfully ill. And actually be a bit productive. Get the charity app sorted out. Do some art. And shit. My wellbeing is teetering on a knife edge at the moment. It's. Mmmmmmm. Not great. Not terrible. The heatwave we are having isn't doing me any favours at the moment either. 10am, and already the inside temperature of the house is getting on for 27C. As the years go past and it does indeed seem to be getting hotter more regularly in the summer, the notion of moving North to stay in some semblance of old school UK temperatures appeals to my daydreaming mind. Personally, I find heat tolerable, so long as it breaks - cool or cold nights. Oppressive heat that doesn't shift day and night. Yeah. No. My cold temperate sensibilities do not like it. Plus, the UK in general is not built for extreme temperatures. Where snow is a cataclysm, and bugger all places have air con.

Anyway. Yeah. Positives. Chill. If I feel up to it. Bust out some work. Hopefully not feel ill all the goddamn time.