Monday, June 23, 2008

AND HOW WAS YOUR DAY?

Mine started with a phone call from the BrickOutHouse who told me not to come near the rotten old bitch who won't do a thing she's told for her own good. (Poor thing got the daily double with grandmothers. His fraternal one is also batshit insane)

Follow up call from Mother who tells me that BrickOutHouse is nothing like he used to be before that 'sheila' came into his life. In other words, he now has a life and is not waiting on grannie hand and foot. It is 8.15 a.m.

Hysteria starts early around here.

9.10 a.m. and I ring the bank for a balance which seems to be the same as it was on Ma's last pension day and shouldn't be. 20 minutes on hold then a real person who is as bewildered as I am and keeps going away to confer until she disconnects me.

9.58 a.m. and I'm dressed and heading for the bank at Southland. Another half hour of my life I won't get back. The teller prints out the last 10 transactions and I'm still confused when I see a pension amount of $500. Ding Dong, could it be the one off pensioner payment?

10.35 a.m. and I'm having a black coffee and toast breakfast with the last of my money. I decide to ring centrelink on my mobile and check and 5 minutes of mobile money departs before I hang up without speaking to anyone. The seat was comfortable, the coffee was good so I sat there for an hour trying to get a handle on a science post that's been eluding me. Blood pressure seems to be going down.

11.45 a.m. I pick up lunch and arrive at mother's who didn't remember I was coming even though I told her during the morning's phone call. I look at the mail and find the letter from the Minister about the $500 which would have been a real help if I'd read it on Friday. Ma's looking shifty and I know she's put that letter in her walker basket instead of where it should have been.

By 1.00 p.m. I've got all the outstanding bills in order and done the shopping list for Thursday.

1.30 p.m. she has lunch, if you can call a huge custard tart, lunch but I can't be bothered argueing any more. She suddenly remembers she hasn't got any purple pills, they're green but I know what she wants. I put them on the list for Thursday.

At 2.15 p.m. I begin the trudge home because the chemist has to be paid, letters posted and every other bill can be paid at Australia post. I grovel to the pharmacist for the biggest hit of codeine in a pill without a Doctor's prescription. Bits and pieces of me are paining. My ring finger knuckle joint, my big toe, both thumbs, part of my jaw, one hip (don't mention the knees) so I get lovely painkillers.

Sit down in the park for a rest and realize I haven't bought any water to take the pills. Say several bad words and start trudging again. Pull two feet of pretty cerise geranium out of the nursing home garden and sneak off. Walk past the house that sold on the weeked for $650,000 and hope the ex reads it and chokes.

If I take enough pills I should be unconscious by 10.30 p.m. tonight.

17 comments:

Brian Hughes said...

"...she has lunch, if you can call a huge custard tart, lunch..."

I'd prefer to call it Elizabeth Taylor.

JahTeh said...

Do you have custard tarts in Fleetwood, apart from Liz? You really should get away from the digging of ditches and give us a culinary tour one day.

Helen said...

I think when you're old and terminally ill you should be allowed to have a custard tart for lunch, if you want. Bugger it. I know I probably will!

(And I probably won't have the teeth for much else, anyway.) ;-/

Brian Hughes said...

Witchy,

We call them egg-custards round these parts, but they're basically the same thing. As for the Bavarian slices...mmmm. And the steak and kidney pies, and the potato cakes, and the hot pots and vanilla slices and the egg and bacon barmcakes...no wonder I'm so bloody fat.

Jayne said...

That cattle prod is in the mail, Jenn!

R.H. said...

Ride the moving stairs at old Southland
Cook a meal no one can understand
But just remember in your recipe
You belong to me....


ha ha ha!


(True!)


ROBBBBERT!!!!!!!

R.H. said...

Watch the poseurs down in old Balmain
See focaccia when it's wet with rain
But just remember when you blog again
You belong to me....

HA!

Right on!

ROBBBBERT!!!!!!!

R.H. said...

I'll be so alone
Without you
Maybe you'll be chasing
Someone
New.

Brian Hughes is not the man for you
Andrew's closet is vacated too Sedgewick has a little drink or two
You belong to me....

yuk yuk yuk

All true!

ROBBBBBERT~!!!!!!!!!

River said...

Bleh, migraine.
Mmmm, custard tarts.
Mmmm, codeine.

JahTeh said...

Such memories Rh, I can see you now underneath the lamp light at the barracks gate.

Helen, she only likes Ferguson and Plarre custard tarts, $3.80 for a small one. It's cheaper to buy a large one but then I'd eat half. She rang tonight to complain about the tea, she didn't like the toasted salad or the Italian sauce that went on it. I'm not even going to try to work that out.

Fleetwood, I love all of those goodies. I haven't been a vegetarian long enough to forget the taste and you forgot the eccles cakes.

Jayne, don't forget the lump of fourbytwo for a backup.

R.H. said...

Women's barracks, yeah.

R.H. said...

Underneath the lamplight at Miss Jahteh's gate.
With a little posy
"Go away it's late!"
And here comes a taxi with her mum
"Get out of bed! and who's this bum!"
Miss Jahteh of the lamplight
Miss Jahteh, dear old chum.

-ROBBBERT!!!

(Yes well I might have done better with a Boston bun)

JahTeh said...

River, I feel your pain. I haven't had a migraine for a long time but the memory lingers.

JahTeh said...

Try two Boston buns Rh.

R.H. said...

It's a deal.

R.H. said...

You Belong To Me.
Composer: Pee Wee King.
Best version: Patsy Cline.

Lily Marleen.
(Outside the barracks, by the corner light)
Composer: Hans Leip.
Best version: Marlene Dietrich.

Lily Marleen was sung by troops on both sides during the second world war.

War. How ridiculous.

Middle Child said...

What can I say? Hope today was better...really.