The 9th of November. 

It seems to get worse in the evenings. 

I had a fairly decent night. I took a Zopiclone, although I'm not sure how much that worked, because I got woken up by my podcast ending, plus I had to get up several times to pee. I wasn't able to put ointment in my left eye, which I was worried about because I thought it would get really dry. Thankfully, it kind of sealed itself shut with sleepy dust, and I have managed to develop a technique for putting in my eye drops that means they don't go all over my face. 

This morning, Steven, the minister who'll be conducting the service at Grandma's funeral, came round to discuss it with Mommy. They were in the dining room until he left just after twelve, which didn't affect me, except it meant Daddy joining me in the living room while I did my blog post, because he had nothing to do. Normally they would be doing the weekly shop together, so he had to find some way to amuse himself without using the computer or reading the paper in the kitchen. 

Once Steven had left, we had lunch (beans on toast; absolutely vital on a day like this), then they went to do the aforementioned shop. I went upstairs to try on some leggings I had ordered, then have some Dark Time while I listened to Electioncast. When I came back down, there was evidence to show that they'd been home, but had obviously gone back out again. I had a phone call from the fire service, because Baywater came to do a safety check the other day and had called them. I declined their offer of another visit, because nothing has changed in terms of my use of the oxygen or our storage of it, so I didn't think it was necessary. 

I went to go and sit with the kittens, because if I hadn't, they would have been on their own all day. I ended up watching The Purge, which is fine. You have to imagine me saying the word "fine" very disparagingly, because that is the sort of fine it is. It's not scary, it's just a lot of bad decisions that end in a lot of death. I love Lena Headey as always, but she was very annoying for most of the film, except the very end. 

I have ended up buying the Biscuiteers advent calendar. I haven't been able to find any others that I want more, and today I got an email from them with 15% off their entire Christmas collection, so I thought it just made sense. And I felt quite smug about having waited so long, I didn't even have to pay full price. 

The 10th of November. 

More fireworks. Surely tonight must be the last night I am forced to endure them? I do not understand people who think it is acceptable just to set them off whenever it suits them. Awful humans. 

This morning, I watched a very unimpressive Sunday Brunch (I presume the more inspiring guests are being saved up until the festive period) while I continued to knit my scarf. It's nearly finished, I think? I hope. I'll probably keep going until the end of this ball of wool, then perhaps it'll be done. 

After lunch, a little bit of Dark Time while listening to The Birthday Game, then I spent the rest of my afternoon with the kittens, watching Almost Famous. It was my favourite film when I was fifteen/sixteen, and I haven't seen it since then. It's been on my watchlist for a while now, but I've almost been too scared to watch it again in case it didn't live up to my memories. I needn't have worried. It still evokes all the same feelings. The scene on the bus when they all sing Tiny Dancer. Took me straight back. And weirdly, while I was sitting there, I found out that Rakeem's piece about me had come out, all about me having been sick for twelve years. And as William was waving Penny off in the plane for the last time, all the way down the lounge, I just started crying and I couldn't really tell you why. Maybe because so much has changed for me since I was the person I was when I saw it last. William is robbed of an adolescence and I was robbed of a youth. I try to keep a positive spin on things and I have gained a lot, but I've lost a lot too. I had a whole person I planned on being, a whole life for her, and she was taken from me.