Thursday, November 09, 2006

Day 81.1

Blah, blah, blah. So...I eventually went outside today. Well, late this afternoon actually. I had made prior arrangements to go to a book launch and an opening, and I had to drop off the dull DVD's I got out the other day in a fit of boredom, before I got fined. All tasks were rather er, dull - apart from the coffee I had with my friend before we set out on our mission(s). The launch was rather entertaining, mainly because the 'guest speaker' referred to one of the contributors as a "feisty little minx". The opening on the other hand, was pretty horrific; mainly due to the content.

After watching a very dull film we had drinks and did the social 'chit chat'. I was looking around the gallery space and saw an older man sitting at a table. He looked so out of place and somehow managed to remind me of my father. An unwelcome and surprising wave of sympathy ensued.

I wondered if my father would ever come to an opening of mine? He had a stroke over a year ago and his speech has been badly affected so he now talks in an almost childlike fashion. I wondered that if I were to invite him to this imaginary opening of mine, he might do his best to show up. That single thought made my heart lurch, that old heart that I thought I didn't have the day before yesterday. I don't like talking or thinking about my father because I find it 'difficult'. Very 'difficult' indeed.

I caught the train home after that.

Now I sit in my freezing cold flat, surrounded by paper work, trying to make sense of bills and forms. Bills and forms, the things I spend my life avoiding. I tried to sort out the gas and leccy bill today - they had estimated my bill to the point that I nearly fainted when I opened the envelopes, so I called to give them readings. Tonight I scanned the latest sick line for my Incapacity Benefit and loan cover and wrote important letters. All things I have to sort out tomorrow. Bleugh.

I have counselling tomorrow. I am going to try my best not to waffle for 3/4 of an hour before I dare to tackle the hard stuff, 15 mins before my session ends. Maybe I should just go in there and say, "I want to talk about my Dad today"? Maybe I will, or maybe I'm not that brave...

At least my bedroom has stopped smelling like cabbages. I thought something might have died under a floorboard last night.

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