going cheep

My friend Mitch Benn writes Christmas songs every year… and while I have very much liked them, I don’t think one has spoken to me as much as his one in 2020 entitled Thank Fuck It’s Christmas!

Not so much for the ostensible message - kick back at christmas, just as an oasis from the bin fire that was 2020 - but the lines

‘At the end of this pitiless fuck-awful raging bin-fire of a year..’

‘I guess there’s a chance that next year will be better, but what are the odds?’

Because that’s exactly how I’m feeling right now.

This trash fire of a year can go to hell, and though next year might not be any better, at least we can hope hell that it’ll at least be… different.

…but what are the odds?

https://youtu.be/XSWrwzZHFz0

If you’re looking for something more cheerful, this was his song as 2018 closed.

Who knows, maybe this is the year he’s right. At least the sentiment is one I wish right now I could share.

https://youtu.be/IQrte1MZ6eY

Feeling a bit disconnected from everything today; not entirely sure why, though three nights’ particularly lousy sleep probably has something to do with it. And I can’t blame nightmares for it for once. Oh, I’ve had some, but even without them, I’ve been waking up every 90 minutes or so and it’s taking me half an hour to get back into even a fitful sleep.)

My usual rule may apply tonight: if I have three consecutive very bad nights’ sleep, then a couple of large glasses of the ‘wine of scotland’ will at least ensure that I at least sleep through… I usually wake up afterwards a bit groggy but a shower takes care of that. And it usually resets my sleep patterns to at least… manageable.

I’m not someone who usually gets a symptom of… something, and immediately checks on Doctor Google to see if it’s a symptom of a specific illness or disease.

And, as previously mentioned, I’m not someone with the most regular of sleep patterns.

But, notwithstanding all of the above, I took a lateral flow test today actually mildly curious to see the result. For the first time, I wondered if I might get a positive.

Because the symptom I mentioned was ‘sudden fatigue’. Last night, around 8pm, I got hit with a wave of tiredness that came out of nowhere but which was so complete that I could barely move from fatigue. I ached with tiredness. For the first time I can recall in the flat, I not only didn’t wash up my dishes before heading to bed, but left them on the table, and just about made it to the bed before falling asleep. The next thing i knew, it was several hours later and I woke up, still tired, but not achy with it. I checked Doctor Google, ok the NHS site, to discover that fatigue was a symptom of omicron, but only together with several others, m one of which I had. I made myself a cuppa and barely made it back to bed again.

Long story short - too late, I fear - a horrible rest of the night’s sleep later, I awoke to find the tea undrunk, the duvet still covering me but half way off the bed. I made myself some coffee, and took my temperature - normal - and a covid lateral flow test which was thankfully still negative.

I still can’t shake the weird feeling that accompanies the realisation that we’re now only a few days until the end of 2021.

In some ways, it feels wrong that we’re both approaching the end of December 2021, yet also still in the dying days of March 2020.

It should feel important, the end of a year.

It should do.

A chance to consider what’s occurred this year, and to look forward to the next twelve months.

Yet, I feel… nothing. At least as far as the year switching from 2021 to 2022.

Well, we’re now less than a week from the advent of 2022, and while of course nothing in and of itself will change other than the year, marking the changing of the seasons - whether it’s birthdays, anniversaries or New Years has come to mean something.

I do note that people who do the whole ‘I don’t know why you’re making a fuss about the arbitrarily invented changing of the year’ never seem to turn down birthday presents when the same principle moves from the impersonal to the very personal indeed.

But, notwithstanding all of the above, I won’t be sorry to see the end of 2021. In some ways, it was a better year for me than 2021, in some ways a much worse year.

Mental health wise… well, the same applies: 2021 was a better year in some ways than 2021, but a much much worse year for me in others.

The one thing you won’t catch me saying is “well, whatever happens in 2022, it can’t be worse than 2021...”

The last New Year’s Eve I said that was when the year of 1998 was approaching. And nine days’ later, well…

I like structure in my weeks; not uncommon I guess, but Saturday is usually when I have a coffee and catchup with my ex-wife Laura, someone whose friendship after we split up I remain forever grateful for.

But, obviously, tomorrow is Christmas and I’ll be spending it on my own (for the second consecutive year, something I’m not exactly enthusiastic about) so Laura and I had a coffee and catchup today.

It’s just a nice thing to do, y’know? She’s still one of my favourite people on the planet, despite me exasperating her at least as much as when we were married, and my amusement at her own foibles, which again has only grown since we parted.

I’m currently sitting outside a Nero in Golders Green, getting ready to write today’s blog entry, having watched some YouTube videos I’d saved and wanted to watch today.

I glanced up and holy hell, it’s getting dark. I’m not kidding; it’s just after half-three in the afternoon and it’s already a damn sight darker than it was even half an hour ago.

I mean, I shouldn’t be even mildly surprised; sunset today is in twelve minutes’ time, apparently. (Thank you, Siri.)

But I am surprised.

Twitter’s introduced some new notifications the past couple of weeks, including a suggestion that a discussion thread is contentious and that you might want to remember there are ‘real people’ behind the screens.

Also, that ‘someone with a lot of followers has retweeted you, so you might want to limit your replies/notifications’.

In the past couple of weeks, I’ve received half a dozen of the latter message, usually when someone with a few tens of thousands of followers has RT’d me or QT’d me.

(Not for nothing, but I’m always amused by people who want a few tens of thousands of followers. I’m very pleased with my 2.5k followers number. Apart from anything else, it means I’m unlikely - deliberately or inadvertently - create a pile-on… I just don’t have enough followers to create one. And it also means I don’t have to second-guess every tweet/RT/QT I make.)

But anyway, yeah, had a few of the ‘someone with a lot of followers has…’ messages.

Today, a friend with several million followers RT’d me. (I’d cheekily replied to open of his tweets with a link to yesterday’s blog entry… he kindly RT’d it and by doing so promoted the blog.)

But yeah, someone with several million followers RT’d me, and…

…I didn’t get the message.

Despite me being 57 years old and having known how they calendar works since I was a young child, Christmas seems to have snuck up on me this year.

It’s less than a week until 25th December, and yet it doesn’t feel like Christmas in any real way. I mean, yes, there are the Christmas devoted channels on tv, there are the Christmas songs everywhere and - as I said the other day - it’s certainly beginning to sound a lot like Christmas.

BUT, and it’s a big¹ BUT… almost no one seems to be… happy nor merry. Understandable of course not only after this shitshow of a year but the previous one as well. But even so, something is missing, and I’m genuinely curious about whether something has irrevocably changed, and worried that it has.

______________

Yeah, woke up again this smelling, but not until after 6am, from a bad nightmare. As I’ve mentioned before, a) this isn’t unusual, and b) I’m always kind of puzzled by what they ‘mean’, but never curious enough to actually find out.

I’m not a fan of ‘dream interpretation’ in general, to be honest. It makes no sense to me at all, other than as guesswork. Possibly, as part of a genuine, thorough, psychological work up, then yeah, maybe. If someone is constantly concerned that they can’t trust people, then dreaming of people be treating them, say, would make sense.

if someone has a fear of heights, then nightmares about falling off bridges would make sense to me.

BUT, the whole ‘If you see a wild animal in a dream, it means that you will face many fears. You are often one step away from achieving your wishes…’ or ‘Seeing a werewolf or a wolfman in your dreams warns something or someone around you is not as it seems’? Or ‘If you dreamt that you were being burned alive, it's possible you are being consumed by your own ambition’?

No. Just… no.

Last night’s nightmare was a common one, involving wild animals tearing chunks out of me, then me being burned alive, while friends cheered the animals and the fire on.

The deeper meaning? I don’t think for a moment that there was any deeper meaning. I think the only meaning was “I’m scared of having chunks torn out of me by wild animals before I’m being burned alive while friends cheer the whole thing on…”

No deeper meaning than that.

I’m still being irrational. (See Monday’s goingcheep) and it’s continuing to piss me off.

Nothing big today nothing even trivial. But as I’ve said before, I start typing in here whatever’s on my mind, and that’s on my mind today.

I’ve mentioned before that one of the most irritating things about myself (irritating to me, anyways; I’m sure others find many many things irritating about me) is that I have a habit of getting annoyed and upset at people for things that are unreservedly, totally, completely, 100%, Not Their Fault.

This has, of course, various flavours… but one irritates me more than any other, and I can feel it creeping up on me in a way that it hasn’t for a while. I’m single; I’ve said that before. The idea of being ‘in a relationship’ with anyone both repulses me and — semi-jokingly, if that — makes me feel very sorry for the poor person who would be daft enough to want to be in a relationship with me. I’m usually ok with dealing with other people being in a loved up relationship.

Usually.

So, why then, when the loneliness hits me, do I sometimes actively resent other people being in relationships? It’s entirely irrational, and it speaks nothing good of me.

But I can feel it creeping up on me. And I loathe and detest that that feeling of envy/resentment. And I’m not that big a fan of me at the best of times. You can imagine how I feel about me when this happens.

For the past few years, my blood donations - scheduled every 12 weeks or so - have always ended up with me having a blood donation between Christmas and New Year.

It’s convenient for me, as I’m usually at home that period, and it’s convenient for the blood donation service as donations tend to drop a bit then.

But, also, the past few years, due to waiting for various tests and procedures, or recovering from the latter, has meant that instead of the roughly five donations a year, I’ve only been able to manage 4. (After a procedure, depending on which one, you have to wait some months before you can donate, and if you’ve had a biopsy, as I have a few times, you have to wait for the all clear before you can even consider donating again.)

So, since it’s approaching mid-December, I checked my diary today and somehow it had entirely escaped me that my next appointment isn’t until towards the end of January. Because my last donation was at the end of October. I’d somehow completely forgotten that appointment only happened six weeks or so ago.

Huh.

I’ve never been a huge fan of Muzak, that seemingly ever present music played in supermarkets and otehr places to remind you that it is indeed the ‘festive season’.

That said, I never object to kids singing in the street or people whistling or humming as they pass me or vice versa. And I’venoticed the past few days that the tunes they’re singing or whistling are… now Christmas songs.

Hadn’t noticed it before but it’s happened a dozen or so times in the past couple of days.

Channel flipping earlier, I came across The Casandra Crossing, a not very good disaster film about a plague loose on a train. Struck me once again how badly some actors are cast for individual roles while otehrs are perfect in the same movie.

Ava Gardner and Matin Sheen are about about miscast as I’ve ever seen in a film, but Richard Harris and Burt Lancaster are genuinely great.

Another rough night’s sleep, but compared to last year when I went for several weeks only getting an hour’s sleep at a time… several hours’ sleep a night but only one hour at a time, this was bearable.

Woke up a couple of times from very weird dreams, including desperately trying to get to an appointment for some reason, being convinced it was Friday (and the appointment was the previous day but I was still attempting to get to it) and losing my tempter in my sleep for no reason whatsoever…

But it was still preferable to waking up from horrific nightmares, which is my usual thing.

It’s rare, vanishingly rare, that I don’t have nightmares every night, so just ‘weird’ is a huge step forward.