Oct 27

 I have fared a little better today. Which isn't saying much. But still.

I now have it in my head that at least some of my flaring allergies / malarkey is due to the small hole in the ceiling in the front bedroom and that I really should do something about that. Like fixing it. And possibly doing a once over of making a better airtight seal around the loft hatch.

Such things are the mark of pre fucked up me however. Sometimes my brain forgets. But we shall see. I want to do it. But despite having a slightly less shit day today, I have not done anything about it. Instead I channeled some energy into a few loads of washing and changing the bedding - gasp. At this rate, I might actually achieve a few things.

My nephew messaged me today. He has cancelled the weekend. Working. Apparently. He's largely been off from work lately - only worked a couple of days in the last three weeks. So maybe he has some stuff to do at the weekend. Something tells me this isn't the case though, and his anxiety has flared, and he has called it off in a slump of mental health shenanigans and posited the easy excuse of work to cover his tracks.

A shame. But I get it. And no problem either way - genuinely work, or, he didn't feel up to it. If it was the latter however, I wish he could be honest with me about it. I wouldn't think less of him at all.

My own plans have therefore shifted. I don't need to try and get my ass in gear and sort at least a few ducks out. Instead. I can just slump into my usual ill oblivion. Fingers crossed however, that I feel a bit better tomorrow and can maybe do a few more chores and so on and yada. As ironic as it is, I am happy when I can manage to do a few chores, despite the chores being... chores... it means I have felt well enough to tackle them and have made progress. Which is huge. The ironic bit being that once upon a time I hated chores. Now. They're a sign of being better.

Other news.

My exploded ass is slowly settling down, but not right. At times slightly sticky. Slightly wet. But better than it was. And it has stopped being sore. So. Eh. I sometimes do my best to inspect it. No doubt gross. But I have no such squeamishness about me. To me. It's just stuff. I've never been squeamish about bodies. I am always slightly perplexed and somewhat judgemental of the American tendency to be ultra squeamish about a whole host of shit. And of course a good dose of uptight sexual taboos and otherwise that they have. To me, it just smacks of rank immaturity. Like an 8 year old. Ewwwww ! Grosssss ! C'mon. Grow up. Jesus. Personally, I blame the strong puritanical streak in American society, which even though an increasing demographic no longer follows a religion, the cultural baseline is still heavily influenced by its dysfunctional relationship with the human body. And the realities of just being a person. Meh. Fucking idiotic religious types have a lot to answer for.

Talking of idiotic religious types. I saw today that the US speaker of the house is now a fundie christian type, who, amongst other things, believe the Earth is only 6,000 years old ( because thats how many years the Bible adds up to if you count all the people in it ), that he has been "ordained from God" to be in his position, believes the pandemic to be a hoax, and other wonderful wonderful things. The US is going firmly down the shitter. I am still adamant that come 2024 or thereabouts, the country is going to disappear into a dark hole of autocracy and religious fascism. I think in all probability it will just be the initial opening song and dance routine for the world generally sinking into a bit of an apocalyptic phase which we may or may not survive. I think we've reached peak. 

But who knows, maybe not. Maybe it will all be peace and light. I take a small amount of comfort at these times of living in the UK. An island. Isolated from a lot of bullshit. Without anything *majorly* fucky going on with it, or due to go on with it. Probably why everyone internationally loves buying property in London. A safe bet for your ( ill gotten ? ) money.