The 3rd of May.
Oh fucking hell can’t I have a non-drugs-induced sleep without seriously messed up dreams? Last night, Bart Simpson was my brother who went on holiday to Spain and became obsessed with ham and somehow this resulted in me having my eyes pulled out. Then I dreamed I was covered in scabs and couldn’t stop bleeding. So neither of those were fun.
This morning I started Sir Nigel’s marmalade, watched Sunday Brunch and made Seamus’ had. After lunch, my hair got washed and Mommy’s got dyed, then I spent a good hour on my bedroom floor, tidying piles of paper and sorting stuff for charity. It resulted in a sore back but a slightly less messy bedroom. I did say I’d start sorting it once I was feeling up to it.
Since then, I’ve caught up on Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. and read the weekend Guardian magazine with Rebel Wilson and I love her so much. I’ve also been told “fuck you” by Jamelia which is amusing – I must have struck a nerve. I saw she is some sort of ambassador for a selfie/self-esteem campaign and was flabbergasted by her sheer level of hypocrisy. She didn’t like that.
The 4th of May.
Resorted to Zopiclone again last night. I’ll try without tonight and just keep my fingers crossed. I would really not like any more disturbing dreams.
I got up at half past nine and spent an hour of the morning making a leg for Seamus, then I developed a really dreadful headache, like the blood pressure headaches I’ve had before. It took two co-codamol and a good few hours to go away. It’s pretty bad when a headache causes me to physically grimace.
Once it was gone, Daddy took me to the gym, where The Boy Who Smiles At Himself turned up. He was very frustrating today, spending at least an hour on a mat while basically just reading newspapers and magazines, and very occasionally doing a few bicep curls. He also did some sit-ups in a very bizarre way, holding onto his ears, almost using them to haul himself up. Had the other mat not been free, I would have had no problem asking him to move. There was also a woman using the leg press in a very weird way, barely moving six inches back and forth and bouncing up and down. I really couldn’t see how she was gaining any benefit from it.
Oh, and guess who deleted their tweet last night? Methinks get manager realised she did not come off particularly well in our exchange.