And so dear listeners, it seemed like hours that I was pinned down – an experience almost as bad as cold turkey – and there was two of them. Wearing uniforms of some sort; using blades of some description; and only letting me up once they had done their deed. Fifty minutes I was in that freaking dentist’s chair and for one freaking filling. :(
He kept telling me that it was hard to get to; to keep breathing through my nose; that I should raise my hand if I felt pain. I hate having anything in my mouth like that for any length of time. I kept gagging. (‘At the moment, jt, we’re just the right side of innuendo. For you, keep it male, and you’ll be okay.’ ‘Thanks Skippy. I’d hate to fluff. My lines.’)
It really took it out of me. They let me sit for a while in the actual surgery room and then in the waiting area (I must have scared the shit outa the next set of patients) and then they let me go. How to walk when you’re unsteady came back to me (or at least you think you’re walking okay) and the light headedness slowly went away.
I drove but only as far as Summerston Railway Station. I had planned to go into town to flyer Caley and Strathclyde Unies about my editing work (www.thewordprocess.net ) but strength ran out after some of Caley and I decided to go home. After all the painter had said he’d be done by ten-ish hadn’t he?
He seemed to have but there were tins of paint still in the shower. I don’t mean they were having a shower – they were stored there – and some other stuff lying around so I couldn’t be sure. :( He had.
But a lot of work has been done to the house and I won’t bore you by telling you all about it BUT the final piece of the jigsaw (altho’ it’s one of those jigsaws that has two sides) was when the two two-seater settees were delivered (on time – from Harveys, Abbotsinch…ask for Denise) and the music in the background was an album called Trance Nation – just wall-to-wall trance – and one of the guys kinda looked at me and said, ‘party time, eh?’ and I said ‘I like it so I play it.’
It was at that time, dear listener, that I realised I’d had two decaffs, one real, two large energy drinks and my vitamins and a couple of poached eggs – I was as high as a fuc*ing kite and loving it (once upon a time, eh?). The sleeve notes (which you don’t get with downloads really) said that the tracks ‘are guaranteed to take you up a gear and into outer space.’
Contrary to urban myth and misguidedness you don’t always need substances to enjoy trance. For me, that day, one thing and one thing only was on my mind: my new bathroom was finished. I’ve never had a new bathroom before and for the first time ever, I danced. Sober and substance-free. In the bathroom. :D :D :D
And finally this week, I tried a wee bit of fishing. At one point I found my laptop switched on. It was under one of those sheets pros put down when painting, so I’d a quick glance (the meeting up idea is on current hold until after illness and house re-furb). I saw a lady of appropriate age and good looks but all that she said (apart from the standard stuff) was that she was looking for a man with a sense of humour and that she supported Barca.
So straightaway I was in with the old ‘I must have a sense of humour cos I support Partick Thistle – a team with the same colours’ line. ;)
‘Did I go to games?’ she asked and I said ‘Yes except when doing shifts with the homeless….Did she go to Barca games?’
And I’ve heard nothing since………what is it I do wrong? Any suggestions, I’ll be in the bathroom – dancing. :)
Cya, wearing that badge (if it’s the right one, it’s very useful to fend off chuggers) and defo going for it.
Johnt850, who used to be able to do running man and still can but maybe not in public.
Many years ago, at my first university, I played hockey to a reasonable standard. One of my colleagues was a guy called Martin Young who was brill but not brill enough to play for Scotland altho’ he was watched many times. Once he said to me that one of the hardest things he ever had to was to accept that he would never play for Scotland. I feel a wee bit like that with the PhD.
Over the last few days, as part of the refurbishment of t850Towers, I’ve been wading thru files and folders full of academic journal articles and e-mail correspondence, throwing a lot of stuff out. Somehow it went from being an ‘exciting project’ (would-be supervisor’s words) to ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to do in this PhD’ (Ibid). :(
At some point, I lost enthusiasm and seemed to give up (I know where but that stays with me) and that is so unusual for me in the last eight and a half years or so. Some of you know how hard, for example, I worked in the dying embers of a relationship three years ago – not to save the relationship but to make sure people were okay. I’m still not sure what happened there but today’s lesson is;
I ain’t giving up on anyone or anything until I know it’s dead. No. No reason.
I never really came to terms with this Eurovision Song Contest entry on any level but I’m told when this song was performed on Blue Peter some of the lyrics had to be altered. ;) Maybe Skippy had a hand in that;