My life in 2025

Yesterday I wrote yesterday's post- that seems to be what stands out. I didn't go out because I was resting my ankle, I was not very industrious. Too much chess and doom scrolling.  Rihanna sent me out today to pick up the rest of her meds and a Covid test kit. Thus I saw the friendly young pharmacist who always says 'ta-ra' and one of the young girls in the convenience store. These routine faces are not ones I ever get into chitchat with although today there was something that almost approached it. Girl- Would you like a bag? Me- Not unless it's free. Girl- I can't give it to you. I couldn't give them away before. (Or similar words, meaning ironically she couldn't give them away when they were free, I think). Me- That's all right, I can manage. I did ring mum around 8 in the evening. She is bitter and goes round in circles. This make me feel guilty and so it goes on.

On October 25 I bagged a job as an ASDA delivery driver 2 days a week. Having interviewed for and failed at Tesco (was it because one of my trouser legs was inadvertently turned up? I'll never know) I'm so glad ASDA had a much more laid back approach. No interview, just when can you start? PROS I can pay the rent. Dignity. The day mostly doesn't drag because it's all go.  It's only 2 days a week.  CONS Every day in that job feels like more micro-dramas than I might been immersed in in a week, a month or even a year in some desk jobs. Big vans and Welsh residential streets do not always go together, SAT NAV can be inaccurate, parking can be a nightmare, roads can be closed, adverse conditions can add complications and sometimes the rotas I'm given are just mission impossible for me. There is next to no margin for error and a series of unfortunate events can soon lead to one being very late for drops. On a good day when traffic is good, I find addresses quickly an...

Let's have another go at this diary thing. I think it needs a purpose, and this year it will be to track how much human interaction I have, because it is rather low.  Today was a hard day at times. It began with a tantrum from me because Rihanna had accidentally switched iplayer off when Big Ben began chiming, meaning to turn the volume up. Of course, these days switching BBC 1 back on is not a switch flicking affair but a torturous time consuming navigation through menus and loading screens. So I knew instantly that we had ruined the count down. It’s not as if we watch BBC 1 much. Between us I think the Traitors and Rihanna’s occasional pigging out on Eastenders is about it. The rest of the time we watch YouTube in bulk and a slither of Netflix and Prime, mostly. It’s become a tradition to watch Jools Holland and the BBC 1 countdown at New Year, though neither are really enjoyable. I like the fact that Jools brings people together but the music is always meh-diocre. I would mu...

The saddest thing about my dreams is I am all alone in them. No friends, no fixed abode, I simply drift between new schools and new jobs, always an anonymous imposter on the road to nowhere.  I worry about my soul's track record. They say friends and family await on the other side but that must be conditional on the life one has built. My life is one only of broken dreams, severed friendships, missed appointments.

Some days I do so many bitty, little jobs and errands for Rihanna that I find it hard to get anything else done. But in a way, that's an excuse. I feel like my hopes are more neglected than our cheese plant and summoning enthusiasm about any sort of life plan is ever more difficult. If life is this stale and unprofitable at 49 heaven only knows what sort of entropy awaits in my senior days.

Rihanna fell asleep standing up. There was a crash and a thud and I sprang out of bed where I was just dozing off myself and found her on her derriere in the corner. It took a long time and brainstorming to get her up. At no time did an ambulance seem like a very serious option. Against all advice of what one should do after a hip op she heaved herself up with a bit of help from me but she is easily 20 stone and I was only playing an auxiliary role. The fact that she has restless leg syndrome, is practically a narcoleptic and is exhausted from not being able to sleep for long are all a potent combination. The cat just wanted some treats. Our little dramas are no concern of hers.