Gaslighting

Gaslighting

Before recent years I never even knew what gaslighting was, I never saw the film, I did a few years ago go to see the Julia Roberts miniseries Gaslit. That was awful. But that’s the point.

So, it’s sometimes subtle, my appointments are moved or rescheduled without telling me or negotiations, emails sent very late in the day so the sender can put off my response and therefore their action or even how they contact me knowing perfectly well I have both a mobile number and a landline and when it’s best to use either and on a rare occasion I might be on email during the day and I can tell they are surprised when I respond in a timely manner.

I’m often doing my emails around midnight because that’s when I get all my other chores done and can sit with my iPad and give emails the time they require. So, a time lag is pretty common.

English as a First Language

English As a First Language

Sometimes I question how lucky I am to have English as my first language and yes, it’s my only language however, I have a few Italian words, Greek even. Not the good ones, but the Italian ones are mostly all good ones, and even a few French ones.

So, I’m very conscious about how confusing my thoughts or words are when said out loud.  How confusing they might be to people with a minimal grasp of English. But I mean spelling sometimes is a minefield.

Ragu. (Ragu is Italian, Ragout is French)

Why is it not spelt Ragoo?
It’s not because it tastes sooooo good.
Is it because it’s Italian?
It’s not a question.
I already consulted google.

Decisions

Decisions

I have finally decided, as if it’s been some kind of Light bulb moment that in my younger days, I DID NOT SHAG ENOUGH MILLIONAIRE’S! Yelling is completely intentional!

As some of you may be aware my father passed away late 2022 and now, we are emptying his house and something I always really wanted to inherit I don’t have room for. Just before he passed, we even had a conversation about it.

He told me he knew I wanted it, but he thought we should sell it with the house to add value to the house.

Three real estate agents have advised not to keep it in the house, not even to style it.

Happy Easter

Winter is Coming

You know those people that always have something negative to say?

Well, when I say something negative, I always like to try a bit of humour.

So here goes. I wanna be like a bear and hibernate when winter is not even officially here yet.

Dignity Please

Dignity Please

Really over people treating me like a second-class citizen.

Telling me what I should get based on what they think I can have.

Not on what I need or what their standards would allow for me.

Dear Neighbours

Dear Neighbours

Dear Neighbours, just asking if my music is too loud? I’m in the West Building on the 2nd floor overlooking the street. If you did wonder when I bought the home theatre system? A young Asian guy from Marketplace at the start of the Covid Pandemic.

It did create the perfect opportunity to get the amp I needed to allow me to play my CD’s. It was the only component I needed to complete my home tech set-up.

The Asian students that live in Melbourne for study making a mass exodus because the Aussies don’t know how to wear masks, cos we really don’t.

The young guy upon my query of the home theatre would be too loud for my apartment and would peel the paint off the walls?  It’s the rule of thumb I have for volume. He told me it would be, but I could just not play everything loud. As if.

One good thing for the pandemic? It created a false economy where I could get the things I couldn’t afford at any other time. Oh, wait, my bad.

Meanwhile, I digress, pre-the Plague I started a group on Facebook for the building. I had wanted to create community because living in an apartment is easy to never see your neighbours and if you are isolated it’s impossible to know who are your good neighbours.

So, my CD Player holds five and it’s just hit the pre-2000’s N.I.N.’s part of the current selection. It’s great in headphones at the gym. But my neighbours probably won’t like it any more than my mum did when I lived with her around 2000.

I guess, the neighbours can message me their complaints. Wingdings will be the only font I will accept.

Chronic Pain

Chronic Pain

So, here at 51, I’m learning new things all the time about chronic pain. I have a terrible sleeping pattern. If you didn’t know? It’s terrible, I love a good afternoon kip. I try to keep it just to the weekends, but it’s not always a given. It’s not seven days a week, most people would blame my years of working in hospitality. I always thought working in clubs had its own category, but apparently, it’s lumped in with restaurants and cafes.

Then, there’s having a brain injury. Also, messes with your sleep. Then, disability, depression, taking anti-depressants, etc.  then the racy Lady Hormones. Must I go on? I mean, I hear rumours about people getting eight hours of sleep a night. I mean, who are they? They must be killed.

But the eating. I didn’t know fitting in three meals a day every day was hard for people with chronic pain. I just thought it was just me. I am not a morning person, so I sleep later.  I therefore eat breakfast later. I have a light breakfast then get out and do stuff. I don’t prioritise lunch. I’ll eat lunch late, then I’m full. I skip dinner a lot. Sometimes, I’ll have the motivation for dessert. If that’s ice cream, because that has a separate stomach, right? Like, cows have four stomachs.

So, I know my brain and my body is constantly going between I’m digesting, going into a food coma, and I’m happy, but too full and it’s all a vicious cycle that I don’t know how to change.

Did I mention, after my kip on a Saturday I have my later lunch so much later, people have been known to comment that I lived a rather bohemian lifestyle? Yeah, that happens.

Note: any suggestions of killing or murder is not an actual threat intended to harm. Do not go and kill people that sleep better than I do. Just gently nudge them and remind them they don’t know how good they have it.

Baby Shower and the Job of the Weird Aunt

Baby Shower and the Job of the Weird Aunt Present

Went to a baby toy shop today. I know, didn’t think you would ever read about this in hellonwheels did you? Didn’t think I would write about it either. I’m 51 years old, a single barren spinster. Not all of these things by choice but here we are. Just in case you are new here.

I’ve never been invited to a baby shower before now, so it’s nice to be included, my younger cousin is due in March and I’ve been included so its lovely. So, alas, I visited a cute baby toy shop in Carlton today. My girl Wednesday (25) is into dinosaurs and found the six dinosaurs in moments, but I spotted to fake tattoo’s. I win that one, I think. A previous Girl-Friday had recommended the shop as her friend owns it. I’d seen it over the years but never had a reason to go. Until now.

The first step inside, a young child in a pusher blocked the way, said child having been strategically placed there to watch the turtle in the tank. I mean it. Its name was Guppy. I asked.

My ovaries hurt, I mean the toys, all the cuter teddies, soft toys I’ve seen young children with when out and about. Now I know where they come from. What? My ovaries still mourn not having babies, but then I hear a young baby scream in a supermarket because they have discovered how loud they can be and how much attention they can get from strangers in public and my ovaries dry right up again.

I’ve been saying for some years when asked if I would have a baby, I refer to my abdomen in general with a sweeping motion and state, “She’s suffered enough!” Let alone that I’m on the edge of the Pause so that’s not an incentive to throw caution to the wind and smash one out to Complete Me.

It’s still a case of, meet the right guy, have enough time to get to know if they are mentally unhinged or not, then have enough time just being “Us”. Then the baby stuff. And I’ve failed to mention before now, the diagnosis I received during the Covid crazy days of I’ve got Endometriosis. So, would I likely struggle to get pregnant even if I was trying too? Don’t answer that. She’s still suffered enough.

So, I bought a few very cute things today, and I even got a 1st birthday gift because I couldn’t leave it behind. It’s also going to be for grandad, my uncle to put together because it’s one of those see but don’t touch gifts. What? If you have been in one of those places, you will understand.

I’m hoping to sharpen my skills as the weird Aunty Helen. Why is she always pinching my cheeks and talking about the war?

Just an FYI, officially this baby will be my second cousin. Of which I have even some third cousins, but they have grown up and live interstate to me. So, here we are Weird Aunt ready for duty.

Pity

Pity

Ok, finally gotten a few posts out from current things and this is one I’ve been meaning to write for ages, so here we go.

I don’t write to get pity from people. I don’t think my blog or by extension my situation deserves pity. It’s not the shittest life I could have asked for. There is always someone else out there worse off.

Sometimes, they just don’t have the words and maybe I’ll write about them, I don’t think anyone writes to be pitied by others. I don’t think anyone does.

I think I write to educate people, if they are interested enough to reward or pay attention and blogging is the best way to do that.

Now, that’s done, I’ll bring out the big guns and you might need a good stiff drink and a box of tissues on hand. Just kidding! Or am I?

Adulting – Part 2

Adulting

So, today, best of intentions to go do things. Made some calls to make sure all the balls stay in the air and I maintain something of what I had yesterday.

Had a great day yesterday. Had an extra few hours with a carer and went out to return the hipster paper shredder I purchased just before Christmas. Not a good sign at all.