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Thursday, 27 November 2008

I don't want to do it any more

Today I have officially 'had enough'. I have just received the news that the insurance against illness that I took out to cover my holiday won't pay out. I had a chest infection for two weeks but the insurers consider that I 'decided' not to go! I'm not sure what I can do about it. I know that in the grand scheme of things it's fairly insignificant, but I've struggled for so many years now and I just don't want to do it any more. The various new drugs I have to take to prolong my life are making me really down. I usually manage to overcome most things and 'get on with it', but why should I? My life is a miserable round of work. One job following the next. I can't go on holiday because I can't afford it. That's the big joke, I organise a break that I can ill afford and then - get ill. I'm tired, sick and pissed off. I just want something nice to happen to me. I don't care if I don't wake up tomorrow.

Thursday, 20 November 2008

Vile husband rattles my cage

Vile husband had the cheek to complain about working for a measly hourly rate, last night. He works for the same rate, in the same place as me, but for only one poxy day a week, the lazy git! I did point out to him that the more hours one works, the more money one makes. Not only that, but virtue of contacts of mine he's picking up computer maintenance work and STILL not contributing any cash to the support of his son. I hope all his teeth fall out except one and he gets toothache in that.
I am currently working on yet another picture of boxing hares. I'll bung it in the shop tomorrow. The potter has quit. Why did we bother meeting to decide to stay open at least until Christmas for people to jump ship like this? I am NEVER going to start another community venture. The selfish oiks can go hang. I hope he drops all his boring pots on the pavement on his way out of the shop.
Everything is getting on my wick. I'm going to sit in a corner and drink wine and smoke fags until I'm sick.

Sunday, 16 November 2008

In which I am fuming...

Following the so called 'emergency' visit to the doc, I came out with some tablets. I'm sure that could have waited another two days. 'I see before me a lady who is completely out of control' she said. I know that makes me sound rather racy, but I felt urged to enquire what exactly she meant by that. 'Your blood pressure and blood sugar are out of control' says she. to which I replied 'well I didn't know, I feel perfectly ok.' She went on, 'Are you sure you're not in denial?' So I said to me denial is a river in Egypt, and anyway, I DO NOT FEEL ILL.
So, I front up again on Friday afternoon to see someone else. Into the waiting room slithers the vile old hell hag that is my Mother in Law, who proceeds to sit next to me. She attempted to make conversation in that 'poor little old lady' freaky voice of hers. I resisted the temptation to 'bond' with that 'grow your own freak show' weirdo. THEN, just to assure my blood pressure reaches an all time high the whinging bint who has had me leaping through hoops to get the sale of a £65 painting comes in and sits on the other side. Oddly enough my blood pressure had gone down! So I imagine that in reality it's somewhere near normal.
The Doctor has progressed from my first name to calling me 'sweetheart' and speaking in the kind of baby talk soft voice you'd use for a fluffy kitten or someone away with the fairies.
So, I plod on to the chemist whereupon I espy the ginger slug who insists on coming out from behind the counter and reading the labels on the packets for me. Now I know I'm not in the first flush of youth, but I thought I still looked fairly alert. I could just about handle that, but she reached an all time low on this particular visit- She came out from her hidey hole and took out each packet of tablets and proceeded to say 'This one is for Bla Bla, this one is for ...
By this time I was quivering with rage as she had now broadcast my ailments to all and sundry. I went straight home and called her head office to relate the tale to them. They were as horrified as I about the breach of confidentiality and have apologised profusely and assured me that they will speak to her severly and ensure it doesn't happen again.
All well and good one might say, but this is a small town, I am well known in it and you can't put a genie back in the bottle!

Sunday, 9 November 2008

Flippin' 'eck, what next

I went to the doctor's surgery, albeit rather reluctantly, with a cough and came out with dangerously high blood pressure and diabetes!
I followed their instructions and duly fronted up for an ECG on Friday morning. I'm lying on the bed with electrodes stuck all over me when she asks to verify my name. 'Claire Rice' says I. 'Oh yes', she says, 'your're the painter. I've seen your name on lots of pictures'. Now, that is exactly why I don't like going to the docs. There's no anonymity in a one horse town like this!
I've been religiously stabbing myself and dripping blood everywhere to test it myself at home. Although I doubt the patronising gits at the surgery will accept my findings, since they like to treat everyone as if they have the intellect of a two year old carrot.
I didn't have any symptoms for the diabetes until I'd had the phone call to say I had it, so like vile husband I expect it came on at the end of the viral infection I've just had.
Anyhow, I've been rather thirsty, so I've drunk plenty, as advised. Red wine of course!
I imagine the viral theory won't wash with the suspicious f*****s because as soon as they see me I'll be treated with the disgust and contempt reserved for the porker!