A real case of Lazyitus set in and I haven't done much of anything in the blogging world for a few months. But, I have been writing, like a maniac. Maybe I'm on the path to my next career; I want something more relaxing and interesting for my old age; I need to stop running around the country. What I have learned over the past few years is that: wherever in the world I am, I will still do the same things - like, lying around watching DVDs. A whole series in a week; Buffy - one season every day. I was knackered by the end of it and my eyes were flickering; I had to watch the last episode with my hand over my eye because it wouldn't stop blinking! It never occurred to me to stop and leave it for the next day! So, it really doesn't matter where I am, which means I may as well be within reach of my family and friends. This year will be all change.
FEBRUARY 2007 Living with Musician
I woke up last Saturday morning with the sound of my left ear popping; ping-pong, ping-pong; open and closed; on and off. When I looked in the mirror the deformity was invisible. I diagnosed an ear infection; both ears had been rather itchy for a few months now, but I hadn’t got around to making a doctor’s appointment - I never do. I’ve had all kinds of mystery ailments over the years that I’ve suffered through, and they went away eventually. Once I had something wrong with my feet, which I diagnosed as fallen or falling, arches; the pain was incredible and I could hardly walk for a week, but it did go away. It’s pretty weird when one side of your head acts like it’s an appendage; it’s there but is not normal. Not a lot of pain, yet; I keep waiting for a piercing, surprise attack when I’m on the bus or something.
My sister-in-law has a course of anti-biotic with only one out; she doesn’t need it now, I forget why…I began taking them Saturday afternoon. It’s now Tuesday and they haven’t done a thing for me. I’m thinking that my diagnosis was wrong. I’m in the middle of cleaning No.2 son’s flat; I discovered last year that I’m, probably, allergic to dust. At first I thought I had become allergic to Glasgow because every time I visited I ended up scratching my eyes, sneezing and blowing my nose every half hour. Musician was living in my old flat at the time, which he never cleaned. Now, knowing this, and with the sneezing, eye-scratching, nose-blowing and added coughing and wheezing; I’m thinking that this is a serious case of allergy because this is a serious case of dust - his dust, which hasn’t been cleaned in over a year! So another diagnosis is yet to be proved; I will buy anti-histamine today and see what happens.
It’s raining; looking out of the filthy bedroom window I can just about see the pale ghost of the science centre and the tower looming up out of the misty rain. I’ve cleaned the other windows, just haven’t got to this one yet. I was planning to paint his wooden living room units black today but not a good day for drying gloss paint. I don’t know how I’m going to get my anti-histamine because I’m not going out in that rain and if I send him he’ll come back with the wrong stuff; need to wait till it stops, haven’t got any cash to give him anyway. I’ve spent a fortune on him since Friday, to get this place furnished and cleaned; there was no soap, toothpaste, washing-up liquid, soap powder, bleach, cleaning fluid, disinfectant - no brush, mop, dustpan or clothes drier. The smell is gradually leaving, or maybe I’m just getting used to it. No, it is much better; I’ve still got to wash down walls and doors and skirting boards but I’m not painting and decorating; he can do that himself, later, if he feels like it, which he won’t. He’ll be 27 this year; I’m looking at this as his inheritance. It’s another chance for him to change, to begin from scratch, to learn that he likes some kind of clean and wants to try and keep it. We’ll see.