Bye bye crap week

It's been a week that's gone on too long. I've had my purse stolen, a mega headache and now today, on the last day of the week, I am reclaiming my serenity. I like calmness, happiness and refuse to let this quite yuck experience of a thief ruin my space. 

So I'm getting my hair chopped off. I know it will make me happy and swishy and Joo-gee. (Say it like I've spelt it) 

I've had things taken before but not in many a year and it's hit me for 6. I can't put my finger on it but it's punched me in the middle. That someone I probably know (either by sight or name) has had the audacity to go into my handbag and steal my purse is just really pissing me off. How dare you? How dare you violate my space and my things and not give a crap about what's in there, that's personal to me? 

How dare that person have so little disregard for others property. How could they look at the pictures of my family and not put the purse where it would be picked up and returned. I guess their need for £20 was worth the risk. Utter scum. 

Anyway, that was this week, soon to be last week. Time to file it under a life experience and move on. It's June tomorrow. A month of fine things and road trips and BearBirthdays and some great shtuff. 

Bring. It. On. 

Coke and me.....

It's an automatic reaction - my addiction to Coca Cola (do I need to put a TM in there?).

I made the decision a few days ago to once again cut it out of my life. We've been here before, I know what to expect. A day of mind-searing pain and total annihilation of my head and then I'm clear and fresh.

Sunday I didn't buy any of the black liquid, neither on Monday or yesterday - in part because I still had a little droplet in the fridge. I was proud, I was impressed. I felt I could do this.

Today I nip up to the canteen for a yoghurt. I get back to my desk with a bacon baguette and a bottle of Coke. How did that happen? I don't even recall getting it out of the fridge. Such an automatic reaction.



OR: Coke is sending me subliminal messages to always have it in my life. Or maybe it's my brain saying 'Screw the withdrawal headache, get the stuff into you!' - I can imagine my brain saying that, it's forever telling me off.

Reading this back, I realise it sounds like the perfect addiction (an oxymoron if ever there was one).

I pull it closer, I throw it away, my body craves, my body cries, I go back for more.



As an aside... it tastes so good, so sweet, so cool against my throat. It's caressing every part of my mouth, it's bubbles tickling my tongue. It's bliss.

Grrr and giggles

It's quite silly.

I have plenty people I can call up or talk to, day or night and they'll be there for me. There's TheBear who I can gabble at length with anything/everything... LBW who is only at the end of a whatsapp messsage and my Catty who is the world's best listener and who gets my stuff and understands it. etc etc I have people.

But every so often, and I'm sure this is normal, I get a flash to call/text/email Nhandi. It's been 2 and a half years...how come I still reach for my phone to connect with her? It's ridiculous and also silly - and then I get annoyed and upset that I can't.

I don't stop missing her, I really don't...like I still miss my Nana. But I deal with it...until days like today when I want to punch something hard and scream. And kick the thing that took her away from me and everyone else. 5 stages of grief that circle around. Today I've hit anger and sad all in one. In fairness, it's been building. And I think that's what it does... grief mumbles along and then bangs a streak out.

But today I went to message her and now the punch is in my chest and it hurts. And then I get angry with myself for not being there enough for Lani_Mom who has this punch in the chest every single day.

I miss my 1313 - I guess it won't go away.

Tomorrow will be better....

And as I'm typing this, I have had spotify on random and Wilson Phillips comes on the randomiser. Hold on... Oh Nhandi... now I have the giggles. It might be craziness on my part but I like to think she's just played a huge part in me about to feel sorry for myself and now I'm crying with laughter instead and dancing around the kitchen with the biggest grin.

Angelo oh Angelo

I don't ask for much....not really. Just a little bit of sparkle and smiley stuff. 

But I want my Angelo back. I really do. And I don't want him back on Tuesday, I want him back tomorrow. 

He deserves to be on the driveway or riding the roads with the wind in his tyres, cruising the streets, with careful concern of others. 

He shouldn't be all sick at the doctors, we didn't have time to say goodbye. I hope he isn't lonely thinking I've abandoned him for another. I know I spoke very briefly about another car, while he was doing his very best to take me places. I'm so sorry. 

Get well soon my Angelo and don't make me have to take transport with the general unwashed public please!! Please!!

😩🚙