All Sweetness and Light

so had yesterday off cause my hands were hurting. couldn't sleep at all monday night. spent tuesday sat on the sofa saying ouch.

stupid hands.

the boy came down on monday and actually managed to look at the house. all in one piece apparently. when i asked what it was like he said 'alright'. now that's the kind of enthusiasm that I'm after. yay to buying a house that's 'alright'. brilliant.

so anyway he stayed over on monday but as i was in agony from my hands and he's shit at sympathy it was not much fun.

and i got no pissing sleep.

so stayed off work tuesday.

but sickies are also no fun when you actually sick.

blah.

apparently boy transferred the deposit yesterday. yay. this means we might actually be exchanging middle of next week.

god i want to move.

but mostly i want to have pain free use of my hands again.

in a very bad mood. snapping at all. i hurt, i snap. grrrrrr.

and the hot chock machine broke, and i can't think straight cause hurty hands. and i want to go home. boo.

on the bright side mr blabbermouth is back at work. yay. misery loves company

so sleepy.

had quite a nice weekend and got some packing done. yay.

friday i met up with mr and mrs jewish mother. ah they so sweet. we went for pizza then a couple of beers.

loveliest critters. had a really nice night.

manga bear was supposed to turn up too but got waylaid by beer somewhere along the way.

toddled home at a respectable 9 o'clock.

then i got a text off my lovely mate in manchester. he and his bloke are super sweet. was lovely to hear from him. he looking forward to coming down to see house and bub sometime. I'll have a spare room to put them up in and everything

he sounds much the same as always. has a beard and an std apparently. giggle. hi if you reading x

so lovely night and early to bed. beer is good for you i recon cause i slept like a log. all the way through the night and everything. not usual at the mo but much needed.

up earliyish and packing time. god it's tiring. and my hands hurt like buggery again. got five bin bags of clothes packed and three to chuck. 14 carrier bags of books. 4 boxes of tools and robots.

it's getting there.

yay to having a big pile of boxes still from when i moved in. v handy.

hmmm. come to think of it i didn't leave the house all weekend. i packed, i lathed (bloody well broken the bloody thing, it just barely works now) and i failed to sleep.

twas good tho. i got things done and didn't have any arguments.

now monday. blergh. monday the 29th. the day we were supposed to exchange contracts.

sob.

the boy is waiting for a phone call from the estate agents saying they have the keys. then he'll come down and check the house and assuming it's all in one bit he will transfer the 40 grandish deposit and it will all be good.

fingers, toes and eyes crossed.

i just want to move now. i need to nest. before i move i can't seem to even start thinking about baby stuff. abut what i need to get and how i need to prepare.

one thing at a time and house has to be first.

god i hope it's all ok.

i was just starting to feel like the house stuff might be ok. i mean how much of a delay could a lost key cause?

sob.

boy came down last night. coming down on a thursday was his cunning way of hinting that he may not be down on the weekend. he said he might have to do the toy soldier stuff that he put off the other week... which i thought he had already done.

hmmm. shouldn't he be packing?

so i ask about the key debacle. it seems they had arranged for him to pick it up and view the house on tuesday... but then he came down and they said they didn't have it. which lead him to think there must have been something wrong with the house that the owner didn't want him to see. not that he paranoid.

so now apparently the owner is going to drop the key in over the weekend. so i suggest that if he is gonna be doing toy soldier shit then maybe i should check out the house when the key appears.

but apparently that's too complex for me.

right. fine. so the only reason you are even wanting to look at the house is cause the solicitors suggested it. when i suggested several weeks ago that maybe it might be a good idea to have a quick peek at the house you said no. when i suggested we looked last weekend you said no.

when i brought this up this morning he said shut up. brilliant. ta for that. I've had no sleep cause my hand hurts and my back hurts, you come down, i cook you dinner, you play hobbits, grump about the house while telling me nothing and then tell me to shut up.

not a great idea.

i think it may be a good idea if he does do the toy soldier thing this weekend.

growl.

stressed again

so trying to pry some info about when i might possible move out of the boy.

talk about blood from a bastard stone.

apparently now nothing can move until they get the keys and we look at the house.

what the fuck?

have they lost them or what?

i don't pissing understand. surely the vendor has keys to his own pissing house?

apparently monday is now looking unlikely.

fuckfaces.

so i will def have to pay another full months rent and have an overlap of flats of at least a month. and because of the three bloody days unpaid leave i so skint this month. and I've got to fork over a pile of cash to have some of my dads stuff put in storage for my mum.

and i want to cry.

i just need to know stuff so that i can plan.

i need details and dates.

i don't need maybes and i don't knows.

and i certainly don't need a bastard boy not bastard telling me anything.

and i don't know who i can get to help me move. I'll have the boy i spose but carrying a washing machine down the stairs is gonna need another person at least.

bums. too much stuff.

too much stuff to think about, too much going on and too much to carry.

and relax.

packed three boxes last night. yes three whole boxes. wow.

caught me unawares and made me cry tho. i was packing one of my cupboards full of tools and i
kept coming across things my dad had given me that I'd forgotten about.

he wanted me to have the best tool kit in the world.

i have ace stuff. whatever you need, i have.

apart from a dad.

i miss him so much.

so three boxes down. not as weak as it sounds. the bathroom is clear at least. one room down two to go. when you put it like that it doesn't sound bad at all...

if only i knew what date i was heading for.

last message from the boy was if the keys turn up today he will be down in the afternoon.

how can they not have the keys? how can a purchase of nearly a quarter of a million pounds be held up by a two quid set of keys?

kay, never mind. tis all cool. I'm gonna have a whole month to move out over. i don't have to rush anything. the cat and me go first and the rest can come as and when.

tis better this way.

honest.

so the boy came down yesterday to look at the housey. i met him for lunch and he was looking a wee bit grumpy. no idea why, best not to ask i find.

anyways we have a sarnie and he toddles off up the big ole hill that i somehow thought would be a good idea to live on the top of, to view our new home...

then i get a text about half an hour later saying they didn't have the keys. giggle. bit my tongue so as not to ask whether he checked that they did indeed have the key before coming all the way down...

cor i hate to think how grumpy he was on the train home!

after work it was lathe time. hmmm. think i may need something a wee bit more heavy duty. the little motor was acting up a bit.

bums i thought.

then...

ah ha i thought, i brought a second hand model of the same lathe for parts of ebay. i shall simply swap motors for a bit...

well it looked much the same. was about 6 years older and had slightly different connections but it fit in all the same holes...

so chiseling away merrily. hmmm what's that smell? why does floor appear to be smoking? oh pretty flames...

shit!

unplug.

pull still burning wires from the transformer.

avoid sparks from melty wires.

wave away smoke.

check damage.

phew.

wires melted and snapped but that's it. caught just in time.

my house has a layer of highly flammable sawdust absolutely covering it.

eek.

i put the battery back in the smoke alarm just in case of late night flare ups.

I'm so not gonna tell the boy about this. he twitchy enough about the lathe on my lap anyway!

bums.

i think i need to invest in a slightly more hardcore, sit on a table rather than lap, meant for ages 12 and above lathe.

but right this second i got a few other tugs on the ole finances.

so I'll have to turn gently for a bit i guess.

firey death averted, me and the cat retire to bed. she seems to actually be glued to me, will not move and is getting fantastic at the whole log roll thing. i turn to try and persuade her to hop off me and she just turns with me.

clever bugger.

i work out the reason for the major snuggles when i wake up and look out the window. my balcony and all the roofs in my view are covered with a couple of inches of snow.

lovely.

tis very pretty. i approve.

well until i get out of the house that is.

my coat won't do up round my belly so i have been holding it together when i walk in the freezing cold. unfortunately it all slippy out so with crappy grips on my boots i feel the need to have my hands free to brace against in case i slip.

don't want to land on the tummy but this means i have a very cold tummy.

sigh.

well at least it looks all nice

was chatting to tat guy yesterday. he was all blue so we decided to meet up for beer and chat after work.

home for a while first tho cause he all in the london and takes an age to get back. unfortunately this meant i was in for a phone call from my mum.

she tries to be cheerful and ok on the phone, tries not to upset me, which is sweet, but she always fails. usually just as she is about to hang up she gets all tearful so i can't stop talking when she like that. poor bugger it's just not getting any better.

i know the feeling.

i still keep remembering with a jolt that my dad isn't around anymore. it still seems faintly ridiculous that he could be gone.

eventually she seemed ok again. thank god my little sis is down there to distract her as her family are being totally shit. it seems that her getting upset upsets them (as it does me) but they get over this my not getting into contact at all. gits.

anyways needed to go out for a bit of happy after that.

ah it was nice to go to the pub on a school night.

and miss the little critter loads.

had a lovely lovely time. and a pint and a half. bad me. got a bit merry on it as well

oh i can't wait till this little one is out of my tummy now. i guess a lot of the time I'm gonna be trapped indoors looking after it but there has to be some potential to occasionally go down the pub and meet up with friends and that would be ace.

home for super noodles and turning little pots. i gave one to tat guy and he approved. he wants a lathe now

toy soldier boy is coming down here in the day sometime to have a little check of the house, check the storms didn't knock it down and check the tenants didn't wreck it.

i hope it's ok.

i wonder if someone will confirm monday as the moving date? that would be nice. it would be very handy to be able to give my notice and having the date confirmed might actually get me off my arse and starting packing!

so friday i was feeling totally crap cause of the ex being a dick. really really not like him but at least i less worried now about him and the evil one being a good match!

as it was so not like him i think at any other time i would try to investigate further to see what set him off but i think i have enough on my plate right now so I'll just leave him to it. I'll live.

toy soldier boy comes down friday night and gives me a cuddle and makes me feel a bit better. we cook a nice curry and attempt to watch a film. he not very good at watching films tho, they just don't seem to hold his attention. i always end up having to pause to go into the other room for a bit of nookie (not complaining) or rewind bits I've missed while he was telling me about civil war uniforms. he is a funny bunny sometimes.

anyways a pleasant evening with a bottle of pink wine (half a glass for me, the rest for him. boo.) and lots of sex. no tears yet. think i cried em all out friday day!

my back is killing me tho, feels like I'm compressing my spinal cord. hurty. and my bloody hands have chosen this moment to start to hurt again too. boo.

so not a great deal of sleep.

up and out for hot chocolate, brioche and shopping. yay.

too much of the sex is having an adverse affect on the boys cock so he recons using condoms for a while might help... but they expensive... so i suggest the pound shop.

well i was joking but there they are. brilliant. you can get a pack of 12 trojan condoms for a pound. yay. he goes all shy and makes me get them. i am most amused going to the counter with 5 packs of 12 condoms and a pack of chocolate bars. giggle. then i notice they're climax control ones, the ones where they put a kind of cocaine stuff inside them to numb the cock.

snigger.

60 climax control condoms for a fiver. bargain.

ok so he def doesn't need the cocaine bit but I'm sure they won't do anything bad... fingers crossed.

home.

i worn right out. well enough energy to test drive some of the new acquisitions but after that it nap time.

he plays hobbits. is he never gonna tire of it?

food, more sex, more hobbits, bed.

sunday i had a plan. wanted to go to the sunday market thingy they have behind the train station. was hoping to hunt out a cheap chuck to help with my turning on the lathe.

so we actually manage to get out of bed before noon. up and out of the house by 10. amazing!

the market is dead good. i am a bit obsessed by turned wood at the mo so have a great time fondling lots of vases, bowls and candlesticks i find. see wood, fondle it. snigger.

the boy loves to bargain hunt so he dead happy rummaging around in boxes of junk looking for treasure.

whereas i like a magpie to shiny things and wood he equally as attracted to anything in camo. ends up buying himself a water bottle thing in a little camouflaged bag. bless. i find an old chisel and a nice drill bit.

twas all lovely.

then a cafe for a nice fry-up.

the we do a kind of drive past the sex shop we keep meaning to go in. he gone shy again. snigger. well you do have to ring the bell to get in. makes me go all shy too.

tis still only midday so we go for a stroll along the beach. the weather has been wild so there lots of interesting things washed up and the waves are fab.

we toddle along the pier. apparently I've never taken him on the pier. i was convinced i had but as he pointed out that must have been another boy. giggle.

we buy donuts and throw them at the seagulls. make them grab them out of the air. scary fun.

we play penny arcade machines and watch the waves some more.

lovely.

i really hurt now tho. my back seems to have set solid. a solid lump of pain.

the boy does lack empathy slightly so has to be dragged home rather than noticing my discomfort. he does run me a bath tho. he good really.

working our way through the condoms seems to help my back. any excuse

another film and a cuddle and he decides to stay the night and go straight to work in the morning.

oh my god. oh my god i think we made a whole weekend without upsetting each other. yay! no tears... oh a actually a few tears but that was just cause my back and hands hurt so much, it wasn't him.

good thing too cause if all goes to plan we should be moving into the new house new week. then we'll be together everyday... scary.

well the bee in the ex's bonnet was a big fat one then. he doesn't feel he can "continue to have contact with someone who so obviously hates his girlfriends guts".

ah brilliant. just brilliant.

what i really really need right now is another reason to be upset. something else to make me cry at my desk.

now thanks to the evil one i lose another friend.

really brilliant.

i have no idea what he wanted me to do. pretend i like her? what the fuck have i done other that get hurt and continue to hurt?

ah well fuck off then. it's not like we talked all the time or anything. we occasionally caught up and sometimes he cat sat. I'll live.

would love to know who said what to start him off tho. the boy and the evil one chatted on the train the other day. i bet it was him. he really does have no tact so it fairly likely.

ah well that just further scuppers his plans to get us back to being buddies if it was!

poop.

fuck it fuck it fuck it.

i don't need anyone.

would really like to stop crying now tho. stupid mascara down my face again. why the hell do i wear the stuff?

no bloody sleep.

so tired.

just got a snappy email from the ex saying he heard through the grapevine that i was "bad mouthing" the evil one. hmmm. no idea what that's about. obv i don't like her but the only time she comes up in conversation is when toy soldier boy suggests i should make friends with her and i say it never gonna happen.

and the ex asked whether i was still holding a grudge. er well if you mean do i hate the wrinkled up midget spaniel looking old crone, then yes, but apart from that no.

blah. oh just fuck off. now i sleepy and in a bad mood.

the thing that annoys me most is none ever tells you who it is saying what so you can't go and shout at the person stirring. growl.

no real work to do but to tired to search out more so i sat here trying to look busy which actually takes more effort than actually working. great.

ah there's nothing like carrying a baby to make you appreciate words like normal. lovely lovely word. especially when preceded by the word perfectly.

so yes, i not gonna give birth to the worlds biggest baby. yay.

found the right room in the hospital with minimum fuss this time. sat in the waiting room with a suicidal almost 100 year old lady. she was ace. kept going on about not knowing what the point of living that long was. she was all there mentally and said she still enjoyed reading and stuff but had just broke here hip and was a bit blue.

grumpily amusing suicidal centurion. ace stuff.

then belly covered in goo by a way burly male nursey. cute profile pic of bab. head down all ready to go and growth right in the middle bit of all the charts. perfectly totally normal and average.

little git was in a position that made it impossible to try and check sex tho. i recon that def means it a boy.

so baby is the right size and no extra fluid or stuff and the bit they were measuring was just baby not fat or anything so it all comes down to the way i carrying him. i all out the front and look huge. but I'm not huge so ner.

happy happy joy joy.

thought the boy was coming down last night but didn't. boo. or maybe yay. bit of space probably good. plus it meant i could play with the lathe.

got a whole herd of pots now. they so cute.

trying wooden rings as well but i only have small bits of wood and fat fingers. damn it. still pretty things tho.

ah i love wood.

snigger.

so i wander up to the hospital. haven't been to this one before. no idea where to go. i was told i was going for a scan so ask where i might go for one of them. am directed to a room. i wait. they have no record of me but think maybe i should be on level eleven. they don't say which building. just level eleven.

great.

fine.

torturous directions involving lots of stairs and I'm late and i hate being late and no guarantee that this is gonna be the right place. and i so sad. and i so tired. and so i burst into tears while waddling round a hospital.

fab.

get there eventually. wait half and hour. lady prods my belly, man makes me wee on a stick. they pronounce the baby a bit big and say i need a scan.

er i thought that's what i was here for.

nope.

they will phone me with the time tomorrow.

good news is the blood result are back and I'm not diabetic. yay.

so if the scan doesn't show anything bad, which I'm sure it won't, then i probably just have a big fat baby.

my mum phoned to check i was ok last night. she gonna pick up ashes tomorrow. was having a look at the fine print on the crem forms. apparently if you don't pay for stuff on time then you get charged at 12%. nice. then they get the bailiffs in.

classy stuff.

so tired. bloody cat was jumping on me all night and i seem to wake up on the hour every hour at the mo. need a nap.

tis probably cause i dragging a big fat baby around with me wherever i go.

midwife yesterday. she pinched an armful of blood, young one, needs more practice with a needle. it still hurty.

she took my blood pressure and it even lower than last time. all good.

and my pee was fine apparently.

but when she measured my tummy i was "large for dates". at 24 weeks i was 24cm which strikes me as so coincidental that some arbitrary measurement of time matches up with another made up measurement. anyways you're supposed to be around the same amount of cm as week give or take 2cm. at 25 weeks i was 26cm but at 28 weeks i am 32cm.

liccle bit big.

so she arranged for a scan to check over massive baby. today at 2.00. i a little worried. there are a couple of things it could be. firstly it could just be a big fat baby. which is not that great cause it will be hard to give birth too. secondly she could have measured wrong. fingers crossed.

it could be a couple of nasties but they fairly rare so i doubt it.

unfortunately the most likely thing is diabetes. you can get it while you pregnant and something about the insulin levels fucks with the babies growth hormones.

i a sugar addict. diabetes would be hard for me.

fat baby is not as bad as small baby tho. i not too worried about it all but obv would prefer for everything to be normal.

and my dad gets cremated today. i had my last scan the day after he died and now i get an extra scan on the day he cremated. perfect timing. everything better be ok in my belly or i gonna have a really crappy day today.

feeling a bit sniffly. don't want to burst into tears tho. so bored of crying.

bah, fat baies and dead toasted dads. you can tell it's a tuesday. I've never liked tuesdays.

sigh.

i think i may have mentioned how the boy is fairly rubbish at times.

still is.

so he comes down on friday. nice evening. i make a big ole curry, we eat, we snuggle. all good.

he doesn't want me turning things on the lathe cause it too loud or he worried about baby.

ok then i spose.

saturday. we go out to have a look round flea markets and stuff. i mention that i was thinking if my mum couldn't raise enough to get a flat down here by selling her house that i might have to get a loan or something to top her up.

his immediate response is no you won't. fuck head. I'm a wee bit worried about my mum and how she's gonna cope. I'm a little bit delicate about her in general. I'm also worried about losing control of my life. i am used to making my own decisions and knowing everything that is going on with me but he tells me bloody nothing and seems to decide everything for me.

so saying no i couldn't help my fucking mother if i needed to was not a good idea.

do you wonder why i burst into tears and get cross?

and then you say maybe you should go back home to london. yes i probably should have said yes then. run away and sulk cause you upset me. great plan.

ok after the initial outburst you did get more sensible and helpful. even to the point of suggesting we sell the house we just brought and buy one with my mum when she sells hers and all live together. sweet to suggest but it would end up being you the baby and my mum cause i sure as hell wouldn't live there.

but anyways once you get upset it's hard to stop so i wandering around with mascara down my face and a grumpy looking boy holding my had being embarrassed.

great.

so we go home.

and the shitbag plays hobbits so i can't play on my laptop and won't let me lathe which is the only thing i want to do. so i go to bed.

great. much fun.

then my mum phones. the cheeky little critter got the boys parents number out of the phone book and has arranged to meet up with them and say hi. i think that's kind of sweet. they will be able to coo about babies together and stuff. normal stuff that mums do.

i got out of bed to share this with the boy and he went mad. hates the idea of our mums meeting. why? why the fuck? why the fuck is it any of your business if our mums chat? you fuck.

what is your fucking problem?

what do you think is gonna happen there?

shitface.

i went back to bed.

make up a bit. he cooks a nice dinner. bed time. can't sleep obv cause i been asleep all day. and my back hurts a ridiculous amount. and my hands hurt again. and i generally depressed and sad. fab stuff.

sunday morning we decide to go for a walk on the beach. that was nice. we collect drift wood and stuff. wonder whether we can sell cuttlefish bones on ebay (answer, yes. people will buy anything!) and make plans to take little one to beach when he born.

nice day.

he's about to leave for london in the evening. almost a tear free day. then he starts to talk about the meeting of the mums again. why the fuck do you not think before you speak you shit?

starts to say something about him being worried that my mum will talk about my dad. what the fuck? of fucking course my dad is gonna come up in conversation. and why the fuck shouldn't he?

fuck off. just fuck off.

i don't want to hear any more on the subject.

he leaves.

i get to make some little pots.

I'm not sure i want to live with this man. I'm not sure i want to be with him at all.

i think the problem most of the time is he starts to speak before thinking about what he's saying. he has an almost psychopathic lack of empathy too. he just can't see thinks from anyone elses viewpoint. he does seem to have a good heart underneath it but god it takes some work getting to it.

bah i don't know what to do.

feel a wee bit stuck right now. maybe it's just my hormones and stuff. maybe as he likes to suggest, it's all me not him at all...

grrrrr.

and now back at work. ace. pointless shit weekend. pointless shit week at work. life sucks.

go home, chose nice piece of wood. screw into chuck. use nice new gouging tool to round the spindle. brush sawdust off cats head. budge cat away to safer distance on the sofa. pick excitingly shaped new chisel and see what it does. make tiny vase. polish vase with beeswax and finger what gets slightly friction burnt.

relaxed.

love love love my lathe.

pity it so loud and messy.

i seem to have stopped making random bits jump out of the chuck and fly across the room now. which is good.

can't do it when the boy around tho cause he scared i gonna stab baby with a chisel. note how he not worried about me there.

friday. calm. have enough wood to last me months. not too bad.

wish i had a moving date tho. it was supposed to be the end of january but i can't start to organizes stuff till i get the date in writing. need to give notice on my flat but not gonna do that till i know for sure that i not gonna be homeless.

but i can't quite afford the rent this month so getting the deposit back would be really handy...

ah nevermind I'm sure we'll move eventually. fingers and toes crossed.

mum phoned last night. dad is getting cremated on tuesday. yuck.

my mum will pop in and pick up the ashes on wednesday and then at some point my dads sister is gonna take the pot up to devon and sit them in a butterfly garden.

er, ok then.

apparently she gonna take her husbands ashes, still in their pot, up with his. to keep each other company maybe?

weird.

she may well have her dads ashes with her as well. bit of a family reunion. that'll be nice won't it?

peoples death rituals are weird. really weird.

it's not my dad who's gonna be in a small pot in a butterfly garden. it's not my dad who spent xmas and the new years in a fridge.

that's just the bit that's left of him. it was him but it's not any more.

i don't need a funeral. i don't need closure. i don't need to say goodbye. i don't need to sob in front of a pot in a butterfly garden.

the only thing that would make me feel better would be to have my dad back and as that's not gonna happen the only other thing which will make me feel better is time.

but if it helps my dads sis and his mum and his brothers then butterfly garden it is.

costs 2 bloody grand to toast someone tho. it really doesn't seem right. if i had an oven big enough I'd do it myself. and turn a nice pot for the ashes to be kept in.

that probably isn't legal tho.

bah dead parents suck. the lovely mad buddhist just lost his mum. was emailing me about it. poor love. he lost his dad as well ages ago.

bloody parents really shouldn't be allowed to die. it's just bloody selfish.

they especially shouldn't be allowed to do it with suspicious circumstances. his mum had bowel cancer but died quicker than expected so he might have to do crappy police stuff as well.

we just got the coroners report back on my dad. so after two autopsies they have come to the conclusion that they think he might be dead. well done. no idea why tho.

hopefully this won't make a court case anymore likely.

that would be such a bloody nightmare.

and such a waste of time.

he just died.

there's no point blaming anyone.

bah.

i want to be at home with my lathe. i like my lathe. it calms.

oh how much do i love my little lathe? i do keep having flashes of fear and images of chisels flying towards my throat or tummy, or eyes, or any bit of me really. plus my flat and me and the cat are all covered with sawdust.

but it lovely.

i can make tiny teeny pots and bowls and things.

got some fantastic wood (no sniggering in the back there). beautiful stuff, red, purple, rich, shiny, patterned lovelyness.

last night i made flapjacks for tea and a couple of pots. ace stuff.

mum phoned and made me sad as is her job. apparently my dads body is being released by the coroner next week sometime.

everyone is all funny about bodies and stuff. we know it's not him anymore. it doesn't matter what happens to the bits that are left. it's not my dad.

my mum is just gonna have the body send to the crem and will pick up his ashes when they done. yuck.

and for burning a person they charge almost 2 grand which i think is scandalous. if he hadn't already had one that would have given my dad a heart attack.

i have no idea what my mum is gonna do for cash. she gets half of my dads pension for a couple of years and then i guess some kind of state thingy.

bums.

well i guess i pay her to babysit the little one.

god money sucks.

life sucks.

death sucks.

lathes are great tho.

i brought a second hand one of ebay of the same type as mine. as it all modular and stuff i can add bits to my one and make it super powerful. yay.

more sawdust!

the boy managed to leave his phone at mine so the only contact i have is strangely formal emails. sniffle. tis weird how i like him so much more when he not around...

ill. all ill. and grumpy as fuck.

went home early on friday cause my head was spinning with cold.

napped.

boy came all late. brought soup. which was nice. made me cook it, which kind of defeated the object.

it's so odd. i thought it was such a natural thing but he rubbish at looking after people. well, me anyway.

if he was all ill first i would ask what he needed. if he said soup i would get some, make it, bring it to him, tuck him up in bed with entertainment. look after.

he brought soup. good. but then expected constant praise for popping into m&s on his way from the station.

do i perhaps expect too much? maybe.

anyway i was (and am) grumpy as fuck cause of cold. the only thing that cheered me up was sex but he all broken and generally doesn't seem as keen at the mo.

yeah i know its awkward getting round my immense belly but get used to it boy. you did it!

god i really am grumpy.

fucking january. back at work. forever.

another bloody year and it all cold and shit.

so couldn't move all weekend. was desperate to get out of the house but was wobbly as fuck and weak as a kitten so couldn't.

wanted to play with my lathe. boy first moans about the noise. then mr health and safety gets all worried about it being sat on my knee.

i could stab myself in the tummy with a chisel apparently.

so i rest a book in front of my tummy.

all good for a while but then, in a freak occurrence that I'm sure i couldn't repeat if i tried, the bit of wood flew out of the lathe and hit him on the head.

giggle.

got told off for laughing and he demanded i put the thing on a desk and wear goggles.

bugger that for a game of soldiers, I'll just play with it when he not around

got a whole load of lovely wood today. yummy. need some proper tools tho, will actually probably do myself an injury if i don't stop using a pound shop chisel for everything.

but the thing is my dad will have (have had? do i need past tense?) loads, there'll be piles at home to nab so i don't want to buy any.

but i can't face going back home for a while yet.

sniff.

ah lunch time. gonna play with my wood and come back to work hungry and covered in sawdust.

last night i think i was getting a bit feverish and odd. other people didn't help much either.

stupid cold.

my mum phoned up. now it's always been her job to phone me up and depress me, she just has a knack for it, of course now she's even better at it...

outdid herself by telling me that my dad had always said he didn't want crem workers getting his gold fillings.

the image of my mother sifting through his ashes for them was frankly too much to bear.

ta mum.

she's so sad. someone told her that it would take two years to feel better. her response was exactly the same as mine when i asked the boy (rhetorically) how long i would feel this bad. he said - without a moments pause, he must have looked it up - 18 months.

brilliant.

fucking brilliant.

why could you not just lie? tell me two weeks, tell me six months. don't tell me I'm going to be feeling this bad for that long. that really doesn't help me and it really didn't help my mother.

and it's also stupid. how can you possibly know how my emotions work? everyone's different. do you really think I'll wake up in 18 months time and think yes i know my dads dead but now i feel fine about it?

and no i don't know who I'm talking to either.

still feverish.

then the boy texted saying a cat had weed in his room and his wang hurt.

further investigation uncovered that the two events were not related. one was to do with a stray tom and the other with red headed goth girls on the net.

swimmy head.

greenwing on the telly. god i love greenwing.

and they got married.

yay

and felt too weak and shit to make dinner. which probably didn't help the swimmy.

and seem to have broken my lathe a bit but it's ok cause i got a chuck in the post today which will fix all.

yay to lathes.

oh i feel sick.

now i got to go play on a mac. it's on a desk across the room so i will be all exposed and i hate macs and it's to do something silly and i feel ill and need a nap.

bums.

boy down tonight. hurty wang and all. hope he plays doctors and nurses. i feel rubbish.

I'm wearing leggins. giggle.

i spent most of my teenage years in black leggins, big boots and baggy jumpers and here i am wearing black leggins, boots and baggy jumper. baggy jumper which is a wee bit too low cut v neck showing off a liccle too much of my ever expanding cleavage.

i think i look good.

well actually i don't care. it's been so long since I've managed to fit into trousers of any kind that this feels great.

if the boy comes down tonight i think I'll put on lots of black eyeliner and he'll think he's travelled back in time to when we were little

i have a cold.

dreaming about turning wood all night i kept half waking up cause my throat hurt.

poo.

maybe the slight feverishness explain not worrying about being seen in public in leggins.

it's a theory.

just don't alright.

had such fun last night playing with my lathe. tis a lovely thing. i really do need something a bit more sturdy but this one is so little and child friendly that i can be sat on the sofa with the thing on my knee.

i have covered the sofa in sawdust and the cat hates the thing but i happy.

need to but a few more extra bits before i can get full use out of it tho. chucks. i need chucks. and pointy things.

i know all the technical terms me

so lathe makes me happy, cricket makes me sad.

work makes me slightly annoyed.

had enough of it.

only eight weeks tho. just eight weeks.

and it's nearly lunch nap time

well that was the dullest new years ever.

i was naked, sucking champagne off a cock as the clocks struck 12 but that makes it all sound much more exciting than it actually was.

i went down to stinky london on the saturday. horrid long bouncy journey. the boy met me at victoria and dragged me round stinky london for ages.

i don't think he understands (or possibly cares) that it hurts me to walk for to long, my tummy stretches and i get tired. he just kept walking round oblivious to my moaning.

we actually did two circuits which ended up back in the park in soho we started out in. grrr. where earlier he had stopped to eat a veggy chinese horror which i passed on which meant i was also bloody starving as well as knackered.

grrr.

finally managed to get him to stop walking in circles and take me back to his.

where he decided he was ill and went to bed.

hmmm.

I'm starving. you have no food in the house. i don't know the area enough to go out and forage. I'm bored out of my mind. fab.

eventually the live in lesbian cooked some grub and by cleverly avoiding the bits that were pretending to be meat but weren't i at least got almost a whole meal.

sleep.

wake up late.

sleep some more.

did we do anything at all? can't remember.

much of the same the next day. or was that the same day? dunno the days blend into one heap of dullness.

this is all made worse by the fact there is a shiny new lathe that the boy brought me for xmas just sat there in it's box but he doesn't want me to use it till i get home.

sob.

this will be the first new years since i was old enough to be out on the town of an night that i will be staying in. it'll be the first for about 12 years that i won't be spending in my town. usually off my tits on E and speed and booze wandering the streets looking for a squat party.

the most fun ever.

sadly not this year.

this year I'm watching crap on the telly with a boy with a man cold.

ace.

but there was at least some champagne. and some sex.

then bed.

so glad to be back home. even if i was woken up at 3am by a wet cat nose in the face. i think she was protesting at being left alone again. little fluffball.

the lathe is great. a kid safe little one rather than big industrial but perfect for making small things and almost impossible to hurt yourself was. hence i was sat on the sofa with it on my lap getting covered in sawdust. ace stuff.

it made the baby kick like a mule. i recon even at this early age he likes power tools and stuff

back at work. boo.

only for another eight weeks tho. yay. then i get my favorite bits torn to shreds. boo. but don;t have to go back to work for nine months. yay. but do have to work out how you look after a little one. boo. but will be able to drink again. yay.

tis all swings and roundabouts!