CYCLE 5 DAYS 8 & 9

Tuesday 3^rd of December.

Yesterday, Tuesday was all effort and work. I had got up early to crack on with my report writing from the TC review, but first as ever came drugs and a walk to the village cafe for breakfast.  Today there was no one apart from me, no school oiks or passing ruffians. As time went on there was a rush for breakfast rolls but then once again I was on my own.  Returning home I bent myself to writing the report I had promised. All morning I filled in boxes, checked my notes, checked my evidence and put in scores. I carefully saved the updated version part way through and continued to work on the excel document. At last I had finished, all I had to do was send it to my colleague at the RCP and that was me done, or at least for the moment.

 I logged on to my RCP account and wrote an accompanying e-mail for the report and then pressed the attachment tag to add the document. Nothing came up, not a thing, not anything vaguely related! It’s at these moments that I know I could kill; I take the IT failures personally. I swear they play hide and seek with me. Don’t ask who “they” are, it only makes things worse. There follows what seems an eternity while I search my whole system for the missing file. Eventually I find it stashed away in a folder that is in a totally different part of my computer and nothing to do with my documents, Exel or otherwise. I copy it to at least three locations to make sure I know where it is and then return to the my RCP account to finish the e-mail and this time the attachment works.

 By this time I am home crazy, as much as I like the home I live in there is a limit to how long I can stay in it, especially after a bout of IT homicidal rage. I head for the gym, where I catch up on Google, e-mails and Amazon shopping.  A quick snack and more net surfing till my partner arrives. I change and get to the gym floor to find all the cross trainers taken so I head for treadmill and set off on a brisk walk with some taxing incline. An hour’s walk yields only 480 calories but my night cramping calf muscles are now aching and I hope subdued for the night.

 My partner and I decide to eat out at the Italian across the way, Bella Italia. We stroll across and enter, there before us are two empty booths and all four of the window tables are set and empty. A waiter/attendant thing comes over and says “we got no tables there is at least a half hours wait, we cannot serve you”! We forcibly point out the empty tables; he repeats his ludicrous assertion that they cannot accommodate us. My partner looses it at this point and tells him he is ludicrous, he apologies in his best Uriah Heap sweaty way at which point she tells him to “fuck off” and we leave.

 We walk twenty yards to another Italian restaurant , enter and resign ourselves as the place is really busy, we ask the member of staff who says “certainly, I will just clear a table for you, have a look at the menu and I will be back for you in a moment” Which she was. We had a cosy booth, good service and a lovely meal. We discussed our plans, or lack of the for the civil partnership, which was really useful and moved things forward. We figured that this restaurant was so busy because everyone who had been denied at Bella Italia had moved here. Won’t be doing Bella Italia again, as they clearly cannot manage their capacity with the staff they have, which just screams poor management. Home, very tired and needing my bed, no blog.

Wednesday 4^th of December.

It’s a secret. I cannot write about what I did to today as people who read this blog will know what surprises await them. But I will share this. I stopped at Costa Coffee mid hot flush and grabbed a sofa while I downed a diet coke and a mince pie. I watched some folk around me and found myself writing this:

 I sit dripping my hot flush

Watching the world of Christmas,

Shoppers, offers, mince pies

And looking at my nails

Now turning into claws

As the poison bites

And chews at me anew.

The hormones flat

The steroids rampant

As my head becomes a football

My midriff expands

The scales groan.

I see all of these people

Head down, phone in hand

Banal and full of anxiety

I envy them their bodies

Their erections,

Their assumptions of immortality.

Birthdays, Christmases, occasions

All future bound

Effortlessly expected,

The entitlements of life.

People half my age or less

In gut balancing track suits

Going out for a smoke.

It enrages me

But generally people are okay

They are just crap when

I’m having a bad day.