Wiped out. Away from home for two days and a night and it feels like weeks. Would feel more energetic had I not shared a room last night with The Snore Monster and The Contortionist. Family rooms should be heavily discounted to take into account that you shouldn't have to pay that much to be kept awake most of the night. It didn't help that everytime TSM gurgled, grunted and emitted other alarming nocturnal sounds I was instantly primed, lest the sounds augered the return of The Dreaded Upchuck Episodes. Not on someone else's carpets...
My unswitched-off brain did the Chucking Ideas Around In My Head Allnighter - where would I be now if I'd done x instead of y then, and said this instead of that another time. It hit me that I'd allowed myself to have a pretty shit time on each Significant Birthday - a stingy, emotionally-challenged, ex-boyfriend and ending up buying my own bottle of cider on my 21st, shopping on my own on my 30th while my then husband spent the afternoon in an amusement arcade - divorce followed fairly swiftly - and getting off my face on pints somewhere in Holland on my 40th with a bunch of people I hardly knew. Don't get me wrong - other birthdays go brilliantly; its just those 3 were weird. Decided I'd better make sure the next Decade-Marking one will be amazing.... ;) I'd write a novel, except that I have a floor to lay.
Anyway, apart from nocturnal non-sleep and birthday revisits, we had a good day with my dad. Apart from him having a very particular way of filling up the kettle. Clearly, I did it the wrong way. And him not believing that I could change a washer in his cistern. Turns out there's been something wrong with the toilet for a few months now; he can't change the washer himself at the moment as he's done something to his thumb, won't call a plumber in, and won't let his family do it either. Next time I'll take some tools and just get on with it. The same goes for a second banister to go up his stairs - I once offered to sort it out for him and he told me no, I want it done properly. Only he won't get anyone in to do it properly. Hmmmm.... see where this is going? I once arranged for him to be assessed for some social care, or whatever they call it, after he'd had an operation a few years ago. He didn't like the way they suggested putting the banister on, and he sent the woman away because she didn't seem to be dressed for cleaning his house. She was probably only the bl**dy assessment person....
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