Stuff about things
I haven’t written much recently but life goes on. I had to get to the other side of a bad anniversary and Will was really good to me that day. He literally picked me up, wrapped me in the Slanket and put me in a bundle on the sofa. He put on Brave for me and got me Pepsi Max, even though it’s expensive.
I’d not seen Brave before, I thought I’d be annoyed by all the stereotypes but it was pretty OK in places.
Will’s boss brought him over a new desk that fits in the alcove.
I put my printer to work and stuck a bunch of stuff on the wall by my desk. They are:
- A collage of my “realistic” life goals: an Oriental cat, a liver German Shepherd, a semi-detached house, and a car with a large boot. My unrealistic version would include things like, alpacas and ducks and farmland, basically things that, unless I have a huge change in circumstances, I am unlikely to be able to pull-off. But I will fight as hard as I can for the “realistic” stuff. House, car, pets.
- Under that I have my five-year plan, right there on the wall so I can mentally kick myself up the butt more.
- And finally, the style collage I created on Polyvore that time, in case I get tempted to buy clothes.
|You can’t really see it in the picture after all, but one footrest is so much lower than the other and it really bugs me. It’s not something I’ve deliberately done, but it won’t budge back inside and it’s so annoying!|
Will describes his friend Tom as “handy” and so has enlisted him to help build a ramp of sorts. We are going to try and use the channel ramps we already have, even though they aren’t great and their annoying rim can make it difficult for wheels to move on them. But they need something to be bolted down onto, which is where the building comes in.
They went to the Ikea bargain area and came back with some pretty good bits of wood, that should apparently blend well with the outside of the doorframe and hopefully not be thought of as horrendously ugly by the landlord.
It should hopefully be completed this weekend. After that, I can tell Canine Partners I finally have a ramp, and I can go back to being matched. I’d love to be matched by the summer and get on with my life.
|The pineapple plants we tried to create last year, are not great.|
|It could have been Freya and her stampy dog feet.|
|The sunspot flowers I have high hopes for.|
|Freya looks surprisingly vibrant on grey days.|
|Hair claw is still doing well.|
|I went indoors to get some salt and she got confused.|
|A square of salt that is hopefully wide enough to avoid damaging the soil where plants actually are.|
I find slugs and snails endearing enough sometimes (their antennae wiggle in the wind), but when they demolish my plants I get pretty bummed about it.
I hope things will change for the better in the summer. I want us to have enough money to be able to save some. I want us to be able to go camping with Jane again, which this year has the added expense of getting a replacement tent. I want to have or at least be getting matched to, my Canine Partner. I want to be happy.
My weight is getting me down again. I lost a few pounds recently, purely by barely eating anything, because I can’t exercise and DNP barely did anything for my awful body.
But it’s hard to keep up because I lose the ability to think, even more than normal. Then some days I end up so ravenously hungry, even if there’s not actually the room in my stomach. Today I’ve already fucked it up and I’m so mad at myself. Why is it so hard to have a nice body? I know I’m going to be a cripple for the rest of my life, but I could at least have a nice jawline and a small waist. Like, could I not just have that even though there is so much else I can’t have?
I’ve contacted the local police about trying to find work with them. They’ve confirmed I won’t be able to do anything frontline, but I could be any other kind of police staff.
The police have always been an object of fascination for me.
I think at one point in my childhood I wanted to be a vet, but this was purely because I like animals and, finding out more about what it involved (e.g. animal surgery) put me off a lot.
When I was about 6, Resident Evil came out. Jill Valentine, there and then, made me want to be a cop. Of course, there would be no fighting zombies, but I wanted to do Special Tactics or the closest real-life equivalent to S.T.A.R.S.
Failing that, I could have quite happily gone into mounted policing or definitely dog handling (I love police dogs very much).
I went the totally wrong direction with my life though, and now that I’m a wheelchair user I’ll never get to experience being a police constable. I basically should have gone into it straight out of college when I could still walk around and not dislocate so often. I’d still be a wheelchair user by this point in life, but at least I would have done something that made me happy.
Anyway, I may end up being the equivalent of Gina Linetti, but I’d be very happy with that. I don’t own a Magic Eye-print dress though, and I’m not brave enough to be that rude to people.
There aren’t any vacancies at my local station at the moment (from what I can find on the site, anyway), so I might try and go on some sort of waiting list to be a volunteer. It’ll be hard to not receive money for what I’m doing while also needing to pay someone to be with Freya, and also to get around without having my Canine Partner yet. I am also just the worst employee prospect ever, I will faint, and have to lie on the floor, and dislocate my wrist audibly while holding a pen. Until I get hearings aids I will be shit on the phone. I am the most unappealing person ever.
I hope I can get something part time, only like 14 hours a week for example, because if I had to get a full time position I just don’t think I could be there 3/4 of the time. Just this morning, I thought I was going to have a good day and get stuff done, but it turns out I forgot my antihistamine before bed, so I woke up having a ridiculous allergic reaction just to the usual dust. It really knocked me back and I ended up having to lie in bed until 1pm just to get myself together.
I hate being ill, it doesn’t look like anybody will want to take a chance on me. But I need to keep trying with the police anyway.