I Got A Pair of Tartan Trousers

Have wanted them for as long as I can remember. I wonder if wearing them with my tartan Converse will be too much tartan. Maybe but that won't stop me putting them together. I also have a tartan tie, somewhere. Will hunt that out.

I think the trousers will be the highlight of my day, which am hoping is better than yesterday and I can hear the jeers of the local chav posse as I walk about looking like a throw back from 1976.

Didn't get to midnight mass. I did get out of bed and then went home and did some emailing (started to feel worse) and went back to bed again.

Got up for Em and her fella but was in that vacant space where whatever is going on around me seems like it is happening somewhere else. Kept coming to in the middle of convos and attempting to look and sound like I was with it. We made a plasticine Morph (well actually she did because I was in DOH and not playdoh mode) and he looks pretty good. Will try and find a bright enough place to take a photo of it and put it up on here.

After she left, watched 'Pocahontas', which distracted me a while. Then I slumped again and went back to bed. Couldn't sleep so took a whole lorazepam.

Now I feel okay but know that is only because of the sedation. Fair enough. A girl's gotta do etc.

From convo with Dad earlier, which did my downward slump no good whatsoever, doubt he is going to make it to mine so i shall have to put me armour on and get whatever I can into containers to take round to him.

Came across Panic Room's blog earlier. She seems to have some on-going problems with her Dad. A recent post of hers, where she sort of lost it with him struck a chord. I haven't actually lost it with Dad yet...although it reminded me of a similarish state I got in..about 6 month's after Mum died. Dad had given up his job and was sitting in the chair in a zombie state and I lost it then. I wasn't so much angry that he resigned..it was more that it was the straw that broke the donkey's back. All the grief I had been carrying around, with nowhere to let it out, whilst I read through post mortum reports and organised death certificates and other legal shit that went with Mum's will,paying his bills, trying all kinds of coaxing to get him back to life, hold down my job and make time for Em.

Anyway, PR's the first post I have come across where I felt that I really relate to in a long long time and that is no disrespect to other bloggers I read. I am interested in blogs and more so the people who write them but this posting hit home.

I sometimes feel like I am boiling up and at any minute likely to throw a hoolie..and then Jimmeny Cricket pops up and says "Is cruel to rant at a man who is in no position to rant back". Agreed!

As my care co-ordinator so crudely put it, "Is his human right to do what he wants" (yes even if that is absolutely nothing). She said that in the context of him refusing to do things with the support of MH team (or possibly in response to my concern that the MH team seem unwilling to do that much with/for him). Where the line is drawn in regards to capacity, I don't know but I agree, at least in principle, that it is his right to be whatever he is and I have the right to be fucking angry! I just haven't sussed quite what to do with that anger yet.

So the day has finally arrived, having loitered around since October.

I am resigned to being the meals without wheels lady. At least wearing me tartan trousers there will be something for us to talk about. Ha!