Life is a lemon and I want my money back
|Check out Lady Bracknell's alternative lyrics to As some day it may happen that a victim must be found from the Mikado and Agent Fang's alternative graphic for Blogging Against Disablism Day.|
Yesterday was a thoroughly shitty day. I wasn’t able to sleep much during the day, but I seemed incapable of any sensible thought whatsoever. Just lying there was distressing because I was so extremely confused about every electrical signal that passed through my brain.
Fortunately I was able to distract myself. I lay in bed and watched three films beginning with a C; Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Caught on a Train and Cold Mountain. The latter two I hadn’t seen before, the first is an old favourite I am slightly ashamed to say (it is terribly melodramatic, isn’t it?). Caught on a Train was part of my viewing the complete works of Stephen Poliokoff in no particular order (have now seen Shooting the Past thanks Vaughan, it was gorgeous). Cold Mountain was just one that it has taken me ages to get round to seeing. It was a bit too much really, beautifully made but a bit of an ordeal. I had lost perspective on my own physical discomfort and thought all these sissy men with their septic gunshot wounds should pull themselves together. Pain? What would they know about pain?
Today I am feeling slightly more human, and managed to have a much needed bath. The television licence enforcement officer then came round before I was decently dressed so I had to deal with him and demonstrate that we weren’t receiving a signal. Now feeling very weak and generally pathetic, but am tucked back up in bed and seem to have regained the ability to think.
And I’m pissed off. What’s set this off? I don’t think I have had a virus of any sort. I haven’t been particularly overdoing things. I have been altogether very well behaved. So much pain when I've hardly done anything, it just isn't bloody fair.