I can't believe I'm 11 days older than that last cake. No wonder I'm irritable.
My life seems to have been turned upside down, I'm not sleeping until late, that is 1 a.m. late and not getting up early. Three days visiting the Home and I had to go out on Friday of the pouring rain and freezing cold wind that was so strong I could barely close my big gate. Mother did appreciate the two new nightdresses and the hot party pies with sauce. Friday lunches are never the best down there.
Politics are irritating me no end. Please let's get it done and then on with the revolution. I refuse the watch the debate going on tonight. Irritation levels would rival Chernobyl melt down especially since favourite programme will now be on late. Another irritation, I love 'Grimm', the new season started with two episodes which then went back to one at 11 p.m. And this after two stinkers of reality shows that should be dumped in the nearest bin. Also another irritation, shows running over and football shows are the masters of this. Any show I want to see which comes after football, add anything from a half to an hour later. And then to add injury to the already infected irritation, put on an encore of the revolting show you refused to watch the first time.
My sister is irritating me and has done for quite some time. Her taste in men hasn't improved since the ghastly drug addled twit she brought home at 17. She was going to save him from himself. And so on from there. Irritation is the reason I buy her birthday presents in January for the September date because by then I'm ready to plant her one right between the eyes. I fixed that irritation by buying Mother another 6 dvds.
Cold callers on my phone are irritating. Three times in the past 5 weeks I've had the Telstra call that tries to scam my pension number out of me. Unfortunately for them I learned my lesson from last year. Same old scam about how much I'm going to save on phone calls and they'll just hand me over to their supervisor and that's when I let loose with the abuse. Another pizza parlor has opened nearby with close to my phone number. A call for a pizza late at night has me dribbling with desire, damn phone numbers. Another new one is for funeral plans. Now I'm used to that during the day or late at night on tv but phone calls? I tell them I'm not having one, if I'm not going to be there to eat cake, no-one else is. Then there's the solar heating mob, charities asking for money and the one I love most, wanting to speak to the head of the house for an outstanding opportunity to increase the wealth of the family. Yes, I should renew the stop on these calls but it's so much fun to abuse the call centre especially when they take the trouble to announce that they are calling from Melbourne.
Another very minor irritation which really isn't an irritation since families remember birthdays and happy days but death days fade away with time. I thought maybe one would remember my boy died 18 years ago yesterday but perhaps it's better they didn't. A new baby in the family makes for looking forward and not looking back. And the cat hugged me when I cried anyway.
16 comments:
Aaargh. What a truly vile week. Cyber hugs from here too. I don't feel as nice as the IceBear - but I don't hog your bed or demand feeding either.
Your son's death means more to you than to anyone else, no one else can feel the stillness, loneliness, everything stopped. But you are a mother, always, you were born for it. I truly believe this.
Dear Coppy, agree and concur, and bravo and hear hear to everything you said.
Many suffer the loss of a child, but the intensifier in your case is that his widow and children have not contacted you on his day, and if they did, the pain would be reduced by the sharing.
However, to soothe irritation, aggravation and even damnation, administer cake every 4 hours. when caused by a sibling, administer thoroughly-iced cake for real relief. X X
Your last paragraph brought tears to my eyes, glad you had the cat to hug you. The rest of the weeks sounds like a nightmare. Politics haven't been iritating me because I've been watching dvds of Death in Paradise, Castle, Mrs Brown's Boys and Haven.
I don't get the phone calls either since I don't have a landline, but I remember when I did. I'd answer the phone, go "eh?" then put the phone down so the caller would be talking to empty air. Then I'd hang up later.
hugs from afar.
I shed a little tear for you and your boy. The thing about death of the closest to your heart is that no one can ever remember or feel it like you do. xx
EC, I bet you don't shred the curtains either. It's funny how the memory gets sharper with some things but something yesterday gets lost in the shuffle.
Rochester, always the right words. I didn't take to mothering babies, I was better with teens, still am.
Historian, hearing from the little widow would have me heading for the gin bottle but I did have an email from youngest grandchild who had no idea what day it was and eldest granddaughter is still enjoying Europe.
I think I've told the story of the grieving widow who left his ashes at Springvale, had a garage sale of his things and left for Queensland.
River, another irritation was trying to read the on line edition of the Age and a sign comes up to tell me I used up my 30 free articles for the month and please pay up for the rest. If I wanted to pay for it, I'd buy the print edition.
M, it was the family dynamics that nearly did me in. After being his mother for 24 years, suddenly I was nothing, next of kin meant wife. No information meant the kind of frustration that had me grabbing this twerp doctor and demanding he go from top to bottom and tell me everything. These days a security guard would shoot me. I was in the middle of a pissing contest between grandmother and wife over who was grieving the most.
One a.m. late...I should be so lucky. Especially seeing as the chemist buggered up my prescription and forgot to include the tablets that make me sleep.
Belated happy returns, J, and hugs for your boy xxx.
I'd send you my teen but he'd eat you out of home.
MiLord, I don't take sleeping pills, they're wasted when I need a pee five minutes after falling asleep.
Robbert, the right words as always.
I know you were banged up several times, were you ever offered Parole? Just asking considering the crims that have been given Parole lately and what you got up too would only warrant a slap on the hand these days.
Jayne, the cat does that nicely but I could have used the Feral Teen's large feet for moving furniture yesterday, I am aching in places I'd forgotten I had.
death days and anniversaries of unpleasant things make people uncomfortable. It sucks and is unfair.
I am glad that you got a kitty cuddle. x
Robbert, it must have been a dismal old place, I'd have collapsed too.
Kelly, it's just one day and you seem to have so many bad ones. Thanks be for the Goddess of Humour or we'd all be opening veins.
Really, the slammer is "no goot".
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