7.2.10 4:30 am
I’m wired. Sleep is a foreign planet I only get to witness in shiny scifi art books. I feel like utter crap and everything itches. I think my scalp is falling off in 10,000 little chunks. I need a shower so very very badly. I read for a while but my eyes are still burning from too much mandarin oil yesterday. Note: use less oil in the burners.
There’s still some food lurking around on the floor so I munch away. I have a cup as well, so I can have cups of tea rather than dunking a teabag in the kettle and risking death by drinking from the kettle. Life is fun when you have to find disgusting new ways to survive.
I’m tempted to skip breakfast, but I don’t. It’s the usual. No Welsh guy today, so I leave pretty early and call ex-wife to make sure I can come along. It’s fine, but Daughter is still asleep. Off I go.
Daughter rouses herself from bed. I’m told they usually play ABBA in the morning to get set for the day. Daughter asks why I don’t like ABBA. I fail to find words that would be useable in her company, and aim for a strained/puzzled look instead.
I hit the shower.
I cannot tell you how good that shower felt. It just did. OK? Clean clothes too. Yum.
Ex-wife mentions USB 3G sticks. I ask her if there’s one I could use on my netbook [a tiny Acer ASPIRE one, which I'm using to write these posts] because I only have wireless – no wireless at Leith. Curiously this discussion turns into a heated argument. I have no idea how or why, but ex- completely loses her temper and orders me out of the house, never to return. I have clearly fucked up again, said stupid things. I *know* that is the case but I’ve no clue what I said. This is horrible. I go to the back room where all my stuff is. Ex- is still shouting and I’m shouting back [mostly 'SHUT UP']. I’m panicking. Everything is wrong. I’m supposed to be taking Daughter out today. GAH! I get changed back into my filthy bike gear, and collapse. I’m sitting crying my heart out. Everything that’s important to me is in this room, this flat. If I lose this I have nothing. Really, literally nothing. Ex-wife and Daughter talk about what’s just happened, and how I’m some very bad things that they should not have to put up with. I notice, passively, that I’m having a quite severe nosebleed. It seems irrelevant. I sit and think furiously about what the hell I can do. There’s nothing. No ideas, just misery and panic.
Eventually I gather myself back together and walk through to the kitchen. They’re going to go shopping. I ask if I can come. Yes, I can. Everything seems calm and normal again, but I feel absolutely wretched. I get dressed into all black clothes, inc my old leather biker jacket. I almost never wear all black. We walk to the local shops and I buy some cheap bulk things. I offer to pay ex-wifes shopping as well [with my overdraft, YAY] but she refuses. She tells me the woman at the checkout is also Polish and called Wioleta. I am tempted to say some Polish things, but I don’t. I do get a very pleasant smile though.
I packed a load of dirty laundry in my large, capacitous rucksack last night. My bike stuff + the clothes I’ve recently worn and a few things I realize there’s no point in keeping at Leith. That all gets emptied out and sorted – washing pile, storing pile. A bloody big load of washing goes on.
Daughter and I then have another little tea party, then agree to go for a walk to Lauriston Castle, where she can try out her fishing net at the Japanese Garden. I still feel like utter crap, but we go anyway. I don’t speak much. Almost there, a car beeps its horn at us. I only get a brief glimpse of the car, but I think it was Wioleta. This pisses me off rather a lot. We’ve barely spoken recently, not for want of trying. Avoiding someone then demanding their attention is just plain rude. I swallow that and concentrate on Daughter. We go to the Garden and she runs about a bit. She accidentally flicks her shoe into the pond, and I heroically fish it back out. Go Me!! Daughter now has one cold, wet foot and wants to head back home. We go. The walk back is a bit cheerier and we talk a lot more.
Back at hers I set up the Mac Pro, so I can put House and music on the netbook. Also sync up the iPhone with nice things. Dancing on Ice comes on, which is annoying. Daughter tells me one of the costumes looks like ‘nothing but puke’ which reminds me of the Strapping Young Lad song ‘Detox’. In a flurry of excitement I go back through and put SYL on the netbook and iPhone. Food happens, and is very nice. It’s late now and I’m knackered, so I hang about until 8:30 then head back to Leith. I watch some House and listen to SYL, eat some more then head to bed at 12:30, completely wiped.
a very welcome sleep hits me right in the pillows.
S