The Cedar Room

Considering very little has happened this week, I feel I've written typed an awful lot about it. I fear I'm in danger of posting too many blog entries and making the previous examples sort of useless. But what happened today has been so normal and I forgot how much I missed it. The seemingly banal task of walking to the shops to post a parcel to my very lovely newest cousin and his older brother, who is equally lovely, was a joy: by the church there are hyacinths and pansies in full bloom looking delightful, with the former smelling so good; trees blossoming; cars driving by!; rain on the ground in puddle form; shops! There are shops! I bought a (silly hexagonal) tube of Smarties and some new talc (really. I ran out of the Yardley Rose one. Really. Yardley talc is good. Don't knock it, philistine) from my favourite sells-nearly-everything chemist.

After yesterday's frankly monumental achievement at the hospital, I feel I can jump and reach the stars! Except, more oxygen. And heat. And different gravity. And stuff... but the change in me and my demeanour is immense: I got dressed. Not just comfortable "jog pants", vest and chunky comfy cardi, but actual clothes. I wore jeans. And - I swear to you this is true - while deciding what to wear for the top half (almost always jeans, sometimes other types of trouser) and going through the clothes on hangers on my wardrobe door, what happened? A moth flew out. A MOTH. How bemusingly brilliant is that? I mean, not if it's eaten my clothes but... a moth? Hasn't been that long, has it?

I have a lot of clothes. It's not that I'm a clothoholic or that I never had anything or very little as a child: we had enough, but not spoiled as children, we know that earning money and "things" do not come easily to you and that you must work hard to earn money, we know about appreciating things and all that. I just really like clothes. I have a few pairs of trainers. I have "some" skirts. Likewise pairs of jeans. And probably far too many tops. Fabrics, textures, patterns, beads, "hang"... I love the fact that there are so many different types of top to be had. It's been so long since I wore those lovely, lovely clothes. A lot of the familia's clothes (and even more of mine) are in the ironing pile. My job, the ironing. It's like my part of the housekeeping, because I don't work. And I give Ma and Pa money from the income support I get, which is, obviously, entirely fair. I don't like claiming benefits. But I can't work, currently and as a person in my own right, aside from living with my parents and not paying bills and tax (charities and LL: I'm so sorry I can't tick that box, I want to but can't) I'm "entitled" to money so...

I'm saving it for the recommencement of driving lessons. And then for my driving test. And then for my CAR. I will buy a car. One day. I think I'd quite like a bit of a rubbish first car. Like an iffy coloured, metallic-finished N-reg Fiesta. But then my anti-anti-semitic conscience says NO!! Don't buy Fords, Lu. Shame. Natty little cars. A to B cars. MY CARS. Well, CAR. I shan't be greedy. I'm SO excited about having lessons again. Hope my theory result hasn't run out *shockface* because I got 35/35 on the questions. Damned good going, Lu! Oh yeah...


I feel tired today, after the walk, and after yesterday, too. My womb is confused: it's bleeding again (...eww. It's true. I've said it's all true ha...) and hurting a bit, so I've had more Ponstan and co-dydramol but I reckon it'll be that way for a few days, before it settles. But that's fine. Poor thing's got so used to trying to expel it every fucking day and now it's gone, it's like it's unsure what to do now. Relax, man. Relax... For me, for now, or at least for the next few days, I think it'll be gentle ironing, tea making and slagging down the people on Dickinson's Real Deal who sell their "lovely" grandmother's engagement ring so they can go on holiday. The bitchiness is back. And it's gooood... (in a non-mean kind of way. Sort of...)