Mar 6

 Lets start with something a bit lighter rather than the constant horror.

First World Problems. Tacos.

Today in a fit of minor energy and also the date running out on my smoked haddock, I made myself some fish tacos. Grilled fish, raw red cabbage, cucumber, tomatoes and onion. Stuffed in a taco shell. With a squeeze of lime and vinegar and salt mixed into the cabbage.

Good. Nice. Tasty. Low effort. Very quick. Which is good because by the end of assembling it I was ready to fall over again.

I've never had fish tacos until today. I hear Americans always going on about them. In fact waxing lyrical about tacos in general. It has to be said I am more of a burrito dude.

I find tacos just not fit for purpose. Chaotic. Stupid. Something to avoid.

Not because of how they taste. Or how they feel. The crunch and the salad and the filling is great. No complaints.

But because they are like an explosion in a paint factory. Like trying to eat soup on a rollercoaster. They are guaranteed to make a mess, splurge everywhere and just not give you a balanced mouthful at any point. You're forever struggling trying to manage the ongoing disaster that is the crumbling taco and ejectile contents and at times you might have a mouthful of taco with bugger all topping - it has since left the building - or scooping up fallen contents without a taco. At which point you're mimicing a sad nacho experience.

All the while splattering everything with 1m around you with taco goop.

Why would someone eat like this ?

This is why I rarely have tacos. One of the most idiotic food containers there is.

Consider the burrito. If you do it right, it holds everything together. Forms a handy mess free sausage like container of goodness. Wrap it nice and tight and you can eat it one handed without ejecting a single ingredient. It works. It makes sense. It's portable. It doesn't require a fishermans all weather outfit to eat. It is - gasp - a superior portable container to that of a sandwich ( when executed correctly, when not executed correctly it's a flabby wet dribbly pancake and a stained t shirt ).

But sure with burritos. You lose the crunch.

Consider nachos. All the fun of a taco, but ironically, less messy, despite them being open. That's because the nacho makes no pretense about what you're getting. Here is a fancy cracker. Balance your toppings. Insert in mouth.

A taco on the other hand pretends to be a reliable ally in the upcoming battle. Hold me, bite, we've got this. Look at my soothing container-esque shape. But it is in fact a lie. There is no good way to eat a taco even if you don't naively trust it's capabilities not to shoot its contents across the room at your fellow eater - or dog. One bite will have the whole thing catastrophically collapsing and or flinging the precarious contents out in all directions. You may get a single pristine balanced first bite from a taco - after that, everything is chaos, raging fires, riots, wild scooping of crumbs, content, liquid from whatever it has landed on. A plate. A table. Your leg. Your t shirt. The dog's head.

Tacos are the filthy liars of the edible food container world.

Nachos are honest about where they are coming from. I'm not a container. Treat with caution. Balance and consume in one go. As such are much more easier to manage.

I think, really, tacos need to be relegated to the bad ideas bin. Perhaps in a similar place to the idea of "open sandwiches". Either go with burritos or nachos or both, or if you're a maverick, chuck some scrunched nachos into your burrito to get the crunch. But just no to tacos.

Despite all this, I liked my fish tacos. Would eat again. Unwillingly. Great taste. Bad experience. I suspect this is the last set of tacos I'll ever make for myself.

Sorry tacos.

My hearing left side has gone today. Earwax. One of my delightful attributes is that I am the more uncommon kind of person who has too much wax. Gunk. Crap. No matter what you do. It gunks up. It's a thing. And it's a problem. It gets water stuck in your ear. It gives you ear pain, infection, and deafness. But on the scale of things I suffer from, it's so far down the list that it doesn't even make it onto the list. It's just something to know.

So I need to get my ear sorted out. There are all sorts of official and unofficial solutions to this, all of which, my ear expert confidently tells me, are absolute bollocks. From ear candles - high end voodoo - to dripping anything from warm mineral oil, to olive oil in your ears and just waiting for it to "fall out". After 2 weeks. The latter is the recommended tosh that the NHS has on their website.

The actual advice is not to fuck with it at all. Sure you can try olive oil. But it's a shit method. The shitty fallback shittastic may or may not work messy can't be arsed health practitioner bit of advice.

Which sounds about right for the can't be bothered to do their homework NHS.

The correct thing to do is fish it out. With a special plug. Or a special vacuum cleaner. By someone else that can see that shit.

Could the NHS do this ?

Yes. In fact. Once a long ago, they used to do this for me. Many a decade ago. They have long since stopped bothering. Because fuck you.

So now I go private. Unsurprisingly by an ex NHS guy that used to do it for the NHS.

Oh. The irony.

Appointment isnt for a week however. So. Looks like I will be spending a week feeling like I am in a goldfish bowl and deaf in one ear, and hope, it doesn't start hurting.

Athena is doing relatively good. Still old. Still slower. But a good deal more sassy and wriggly. I'd say she's probably lost a couple of years in age overall. A slightly younger version of Athena. So. Looks like the new meds are a reasonable win. Nothing miraculous. But decent. I guess this will be our thing everything month now. A trip to the vets to get another shot.

As for me. Apart from the shitty ear.

Eh. Holding steady at a shit level. If I do nothing. Go nowhere, all the winds blow in the right direction, and I am lucky, I have an ok day.

Any kind of activity, even getting up, gives me a blip. Sometimes badly so. My left side of face crawls on and off. Left side of body is weird, chest feels weird - pressured - I get super tired, super quick. Nausea comes and goes. Head spins come and go. I feel spacey in general. And yada blah.

Ho hum.

Touch wood. Relatively clear of headaches or migraines in the last couple of days.

I'm not fit for a super amount these days. Plonking down and watching netflix. That's about it. And the routine constitutional with the furry butt. I am somewhat relieved that I am still at a point where I can walk her. For whatever reason, I can mostly get away with walking her, even if I pay a price afterwards. That activity at least. I do better with.

Work tomorrow.

Can do without it. Totally.

I feel like I need another long rest and recuperation period.

Andy is a bugger for it. Will keep you working and working. The two sides war within him. On the one hand do the right thing. On the other, all his anxiety about poorly managed deadlines and competing clients. It's the anxiety that wins out. It smothers the good intentions.

Eh well.