…and my Brit driving license may be paved with good intentions but sure feels very bumpy.
After I called the AA Motability to tell them about the fiasco last week with RudeDesmond, I was asked if I wanted to give it a last go to see if it worked out, today, as we had already arranged it, and all the other people in my area were fully booked for a few weeks. I agreed. (I did get, after all, the concept of the three point turn without putting my foot in the acelerator, though I could do it very well before)
So last night I couldn't go to sleep untill 6 am. It isn't an unusual thing for me, especially lately, I cant seem to get comfy lying either side, and it has been impossible, all my life, to sleep on my back,but, going back to the point, went to sleep in the very early hours of the morning.
At 9:30 our phone rings, Sarita (who is sleeping in the living room) picks it up, very, very asleep, and (I got it imediately) it was, yeah, you guess right: RudeDesmond.
This man doesnt talk, he barks (or maybe I should find another word, dogs barking would be music compared to his sound). I wanted to know , I had a driving test but was cancelled, so, can you make it 12:30? No chance. I said. Nope- and, you wanna know what? don't come at 4.
With some anger only known to my ex's, I put the phone down.
I took my time to explain him, not only during the 2 hs plus we were in the car and he kept asking me each and everything about my life, but in the end, when he wanted to book again for today and I was upset- the amount of medication I take, the reasons why I did not want to drive in the morning, my inability to capture anything before the two hours after I took the first lot of meds, my various problesm with mobility, and, above all, my concept of respect for the time of others, especially coz my child is on school holidays.
I reckon he was looking down my cleavage.
I couldn't go back to sleep, so we make porridge with bananas and brown sugar, stuck it under the grill, had a bit of a laugh (Sarita and I), and I went back to bed, to read (or so I thought) I woke up at 13:35 hs.
We made tuna and sweetcorn bagels, with very nice salad leaves and shredded beetroot.
We watched some BBC dvd I got in the kids section of the library, £1 for a week, called The Box of Delights, surprisingly good. We made dinner. That griddle salmon with sweet potatoes , taking it that we spent 10 days without eating fish (to Sarita's request). More television.
I didn't call the AA. I needed to sort out Sarita's fall of the bloody heelies, not sure if I blogged it, but she fell and badly bruised her waist line right side, injured her elbow, and, despite all the reasurance from fellow parents and the insistence of our GP that I should put this out of my mind, the possibility of her inheriting Multiple Sclerosis scares me. I ended up getting support from the doctor I least expected, with regards of my consultant's neglect.
More TV. Has someone watched Dirt? I quiet like it.
And now, 12:45 am, I'm in a weird mood.
I've got a call from a Social Worker, I was supposed to recieve a letter informing me of her visit tomorrow. I didn't. She'll come at 12. To see if I still qualify for the carer thing. I told her if they *desqualify me* I will be taking them to court. We both laugh, in a politically correct maner of laughing, of course. Story of my life in the past 4 years: Political Correctness and Threatening to take people to court.
And Mr Twit, my carer or personal assitant or wotever he can be called, will be coming probably at 1. I have no energy for neither of them.
Oh well, never mind…..
I m now gonna go count woolfs. (I dont like sheep or sleeping pils!)
Thank You to my lovely jovely friends in Vox, you rock, each and every one of you, in your oh so different ways, thanks for keeping me smiling 🙂 , investing your time in commenting (even if nobody cares what did we have for breakfast!!!!)