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The black rabbit comes to us all in the end

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Been cleaning today whilst singing along to Christmas music. I cranked up the volume for ‘Baby it’s cold outside‘ and stuck a finger up at the #MeToo brigade who have banned it from the airwaves for its allegedly ‘rapey’ undertones.  If the lass wanted to leave, she’d have gone home. She wanted to stay and have another drink and maybe a bit of the other. He wasn’t pinning her down underneath the Christmas Tree and trying to get his fingers in her tights FFS!

I then turned the music off to show some respect when the funeral cars for my recently deceased next door neighbour arrived. Poor bugger has been bed bound for I reckon about 2 years now. In his 80s bless him.  Lovely man.  Bman went round there recently and then came home saying he couldn’t think of anything to say to him and ended up coming out with, “try hang on in there til Christmas eh?”  FFS!

Don’t bother with all that black hearse and dark suits carry on when I snuff it (which could be any time now, in 2 weeks time I’ll be 47!)  Forty fucking Seven?  How?  Why do I still feel and act like a 17-year-old? – until I see my refelection then I just sigh. 

Just chuck me in a dumpster when I’m dead and have a party.  Bloody price of funerals is astronomical anyway.  I’ve never spent more than £50 on a coat in my life so no point blowing the budget on a wooden box I won’t even feel the benefit of.  Stick me in the composting bin with the cat shit and leaves and spend the real money on gin and Es.

Dumpster

 

Going to pay respects of a different kind tomorrow evening. A farewell send off for a colleague who has recently tunneled out of Auschwitz to begin a new life elsewhere.  I found out today that this is to be a double whammy of farewells and good lucks.

🙂

To all those that remain I’m just going to leave this here and say that when it says ‘corridor’, I read coop.  Save yourself MoFos. Save yourself!  There is life out there. It’s not as we know it, but it’s life…

into the light

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Let’s go round again…

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Went to watch ‘Ghost Stories’ at the cinema on Saturday after my swimming lessons. A beautiful early summer’s eve.  Everyone out in the beer gardens getting tanked up in the sun. 

There’s a bar now at the local Odeon, so I treated myself to half a Peroni while I waited for my pal. I  took a seat and watched the local constabulary putting some restorative practice into play with the local Asian teens, who appeared to have had some kind of foyer-based rumble among the popcorn stands.

Ahh Bradford.

What a dive!

I enjoyed the film.  A few decent jumpscare moments. One of which sent my mate’s popcorn flying to the floor and another sent my empty pop bottle bouncing noisily down the aisle.  My pal whispered at one point, “As if you’d go wandering about alone in an abandoned place like that in the dark”  Then laughed as we both then said, “What? like we do all the bloody time?”

You would think a couple of time-served investigators like ourselves wouldn’t bat an eyelid at a mere film, but there were a fair few “OH!” moments and clutching of one another’s arms in the dark, then sniggering like Mutley.

mutley

😀

If you like a good old fashioned tense ghost story then this is for you.

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As I’ve said before.  The dead don’t alarm me. It’s some of the living who are the ones to fear.

 

Cs

 

Anyway, it’s back to the routine of work now for the next half term.  It’s Day 1 and I’m still smiling.  I have put in a written request to go part-time from September. So watch this space for any update on that!

Ciao Ciao XX

 

 

 

 

 

A year in the life…

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One year ago today I flidded out at the end of one shite working day too many. I was driven home by my friend in tears after ranting at the school secretary.  I sobbed on Bman and then took to my bed.

I then didn’t go back to work for 3 months.

Some people cared enough to keep in touch and come visit me.  Some sent love tokens.  Some sent not particularly helpful but nonetheless thoughtful texts of encouragement.  Some people did bugger all. Couldn’t even be fagged to send a text.  Maybe they didn’t give a shit.  Maybe they were scared of what to say, because people are afraid of mental health issues.  

My family were fab.  The usually reticent, emotionally stunted, least empathetic man I call my husband, was surprisingly caring and patient.  He didn’t want me to return to work at all but I’m too used to earning my own money to rely just on him to pay the bills.

I don’t think I was really aware of how low, crap, sad, worthless, tired and unhappy I was  in my life (mostly, but not limited to, my work) until I stopped feeling like that.

I won’t lie.  I sometimes feel myself slipping again.  Particularly in my work. Especially lately.  I do often feel like my soul is being sucked from me.

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But I won’t let it beat me.

 

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People are a bit more open these days to hearing that you suffer from the Black Dog from time to time. Although of late it’s a lot more fashionable to have been touched up by a male co-worker or boss (Weinstein Effect) than to be a bit cuckoo.  I wonder what next year’s trend will be?  People will start coming forward to admit to secretly masturbating to Storage Wars or something. #Metoo (that’s not true BTW – I don’t!)

Don’t listen to me, I’m a bit mental remember.  (Just not quite at the juicy fruit stage yet!)


One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest


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Stay happy y’all.  Life is short.

Xx

Still here, still smiling

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Week 4 in the Big Brother house and I haven’t hurt or killed anyone, or myself. Nor have I hidden in the toilets crying; unleashed a stream of profanities on anyone or barfed on the way to work.

So far so good.

One day at a time.

Meanwhile in the rest of the world news,  two political leaders with strange hair are having a cock-measuring contest with each other over Twitter causing me to lay awake at night wondering if I should start prepping. Panicking that my two camping stoves are currently in my sister’s shed in Manchester.

 

An online shop for water and tinned peaches, then converting the kitchen table into a Morrison Shelter could be the way forward.

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Extremists with no apparent agenda are trying to blow us up on public transport.  All they actually seemed to achieve though was that it’ll take more than a bucket of fairy lights in a Lidl bag to stop London from moving.

Hurricane season has washed or blown away several islands and displaced hundreds of people. Mexico has fallen down, and the world watched on all forms of media as they tried to rescue a child, who didn’t exist, from a collapsed school!

All is not totally lost though.  Contrary to what many people, including myself, first thought – ‘The Great British Bake Off‘ isn’t completely hideous now that Bezza, Mel & Sue have left.
It’s pudding week tonight so I am about to watch and play along as I pair up some cold milk with a packet of Instant Whip.

Piece of piss Paul Hollywood.

instant-whip-advert

Ciao Tutti Xx

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Let’s go round again…

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Well it’s almost time to begin a new academic year.

It doesn’t seem that long since last September and the last academic year. But what a year it’s been.  Going in all cylinders blazing last September, ready to take on the system. Lead my new, (albeit smaller) but fabulous little team.  Ready to jump in at a moments notice to impart knowledge and wisdom with a smile and pocket full of amazing lesson plans.

Yeah. That lasted til Spring and then it all went west side.

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Patrick

Me, from March to June in my kitchen

 

Until recently when I no longer felt like that, I hadn’t really realised how low and off-kilter I actually felt.  Let’s not go there again if we can possibly help it.

My philosophy at this juncture can probably best be summed up by this meme:-

1g1u4s

Am I right?

🙂

There will always be plenty of people having a shittier day than you, which is crap (for them) but a silver lining on your own grey cloud. That’s as good as it’s probably going to get for most of us – and that’s okay.

So before I return to the coal face and my optimism and enthusiasm die a fiery death wane within weeks, I’d like to celebrate the great things that happened this year and the people who stopped me from totally losing my mind. The ones who sent me notes, hunted for spooks with me for fun; sent me memes, love tokens; not always helpful but somehow amusing texts; sent me jigsaws in the post. And thanks to my husband who, despite his usually unsympathetic nature and poor inference skills, managed to be kind, thoughtful and not get annoyed when I didn’t appear to have moved for hours.  Also my Childerbeast for not freaking out at their mother freaking out.

Naturally I have to summarise in pictorial form because , as my childerbeast told me recently, “Mum, you photograph everything”  Good job really. Then I can look back at images like these, on the days when everything seems pointless, and I’ll remember that it’s not.

In the words of my childerbeast…. “Blessed”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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So back to school tomorrow.  I am going in this year with no expectations. That way I can’t be disappointed or annoyed. I’ll go in. Do my thing. Hope for the best and then come home, sleep, then go back the next day and try again.

wentworth

Bring it on Booms!  We can do this.

 

And to end a perfect summer holiday of sun, treating myself to a new vacuum cleaner (small pleasures) visits with friends, festivalling, glitter and music – my parents dropped by today for an impromptu visit.

Good times.

😀

Life (today anyway) is good.  Not always. Not for everyone. But today, it’s alright for me & mine, & that’ll do.

Ciao MoFos

Xxxx

 

Back in the game

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Today was the start of my phased return to work.  Just an hour a day for this week and then building up eventually to full days.

Baby steps.

Had to have a return to work risk assessment meeting today with some form-filling. Presumably to clarify that I wasn’t going to sit in the book corner wearing a tin foil hat and babbling about voices like the Son of Sam killer.

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I came home and did a mammoth work out on my step and my other gizmo. Health Health Health.
    I’m not bothered so much about being slim and svelte. I’d rather be firmed up and strong.  Like Sarah Connor in Terminator 2. \

She rocks!

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Sarah_Connor

Always best to be prepared for the artificial intelligence uprising. (It’ll start with those Alexa, Echo gizmos, you mark my words!)  Or a zombie invasion. Whichever… Although I went to the post office this afternoon and it’s quite possible that the zombie apocalypse has already begun and we just haven’t noticed yet.  The irony of the song ‘Across 110th Street’ by Bobby Womack, on my MP3 was not lost on me as I was stood in the queue with the toothless and unkempt of the neighbourhood.  (FYI Bman, ‘Across 110th Street’ is nothing to do with, “that film about Father Christmas” – I think you’ll find that is ‘Miracle on 34th Street’ – FFS!)

Easy to be this positive on day one though.  I may go to pieces again before the week’s out.

Ciao Tutti
Xx

 

Back in the game

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Last bus home on Tuesday from Leeds was uneventful in the end to say the least.  No pissed-up olds with wet underwear in their handbags cackling away or dancing in the aisles.  Disappointing really.

    I about coped with the crowds of other Micky Flanagan fans at the Leeds Arena, many of whom had clearly been propping up the bar in ‘Spoons since teatime.  Micky was very funny and I shall not be able to eat an iced Chelsea bun again without a smirk on my face.

Sadly, mingling with the masses seems to have brought on a cold.  Lovely.  Snotty tissues and lemsips all round.

I did manage to venture to Manc on Thursday for a surprise meet up with the Fam at Altrincham Markets at lunchtime.  Thought I ought to make the most of an opportunity to do that kind of thing while I am still off work, particularly as my time in the arena of the unwell is coming to an end.  Discussed with doctor on Friday and I will officially be fit for work on a phased return from the 5th June! I’ve had no further counselling but think I could maybe do with some more.  I need to arrange a new person to see though I think.  My usual lady lives out in the sticks so I’m limited to when Bman can drive me and hang around waiting. When I emailed her to say I couldn’t make it it the other week, I got no reply whatsoever and have heard nothing since.  I could be swinging from the ceiling or crumpled on the bathroom floor in a pile of my own chunder clutching an empty bottle of paracetamol for all she knows!

Today I’ve had a meeting with my boss to organise a phased return to work timetable.  It looks fair enough on paper but I guess only time will tell how it will work in reality.  Everyone at work is being very supportive – possibly out of fear that I’ll either flid out again, burst into tears or I’ll go postal & start taking potshots at people from the school roof like a proper loon.
But hey, at least I didn’t get my meds at the local chemist and realise that the pharmacist was a parent from school or anything… oh hang on!
FFS!
Could’ve been worse I suppose.  I could’ve been collecting Methadone or genital wart cream or something rather than just ‘anxiety’ tablets.

😀

My youngest is at a Wheatus gig tonight & then sleeping out at her friend’s – on a school night no less (because she’s just a teenage dirtbag baby).  Naturally I will be unable to sleep until I know she is home, so she better not forget to text me.

Ciao Tutti

Xx