The 9th of August.
The blanket is back on my bed. Today it is grey and damp – no more summer. I am wearing leggings and a cardigan.
This morning, I did a blog post, then painted my nails, keeping an eye out for the window cleaner and the roof man. Window cleaner came first, but I was alone and last time I opened the side gate for him I nearly expired, so I asked him to come back later when someone with functioning lungs would be in. The roof man was due to arrive at lunchtime, which is apparently noon. He wanted to see my room, so he could see where he needed to go on the roof, then he got his ladder and put a big patch up there. Temporarily fixed.
After lunch, Becky came round. She is much happier with this weather than the heatwave. We got some stories from camp, and they’re all off to Jamie’s wedding on Monday! Big fun. Then Alison came because Mommy was going with her to the GP and Becky went home to see her floofs.
I then played some more Rayman and saved my whale friend. Now Dolly is crying, got to go be her friend.
The 10th of August.
I am wearing my new sleeve and oh boy I can tell the difference. Thankfully Boots did not fuck up my prescription, although they did only start putting it together when Mommy went to pick it up. Psh.
This morning, she was out at the quilting show at the NEC, so I had to do painful things like make my own coffee. Lunch was even worse – I just physically cannot stand up straight for more than a minute without absolute agony. Fucking discs. My only other activity has been crocheting while watching House. Getting through season two!
When Mommy got back, she took me to the gym (Daddy couldn’t because his car is being serviced) and I spent a couple of hours there, lifting things and listening to a new podcast, The Teacher’s Pet. There is no way Chris Dawson isn’t a murderer. How he has not been charged is completely beyond me.