And sometimes life doesn't suck...it's Thursday

 I can almost retract that statement. Life sucks if you're in the Ukraine, and dodging bombs sent by some homicidal maniac. Then life really sucks. When you're sitting in London and you're pretty safe-life just may be a bit difficult. Difficult, but not impossible.

I'm still recovering from the nasty fall I had nearly six weeks ago. My fault entirely; I never should have gone out in what felt like gale force winds. So all the pain-and boy, was it severe-was self inflicted. Did I learn a lesson? Oh, yes, I did-and was it ever painful.

Life has been very tricky. It hasn't only just started being tricky, it's been difficult since the lockdown. We've all been in deep doodoo for two years, and it's not over yet. I'm still wearing a mask-I'm told that I should, that it's in my best interests to do so. Actually, it's in everybody's best interests to do so, since we all know that Covid isn't finished with us yet. We also know that the mask protects the wearer almost as much as it protects everyone else. 

I just pretend that I'm incognito. And you all know how I feel about the braindeads-who have no manners, and are everywhere-and at least if I'm swearing at them behind the mask, they can't see or hear me-unless I accompany the swearing with a smack of my crutch. That is something they understand.

These two weeks have been tough; I've been a bit depressed, and when I get depressed, I become immobilized for a couple of days. One friend back home has been diagnosed with multiple myeloma, and she said that she has the worst one (apparently there are eight different types). This is someone who seemed to have everything: nice house, husband who makes a lot of money, two teenagers (one has ADHD, so that's been difficult for her)-seemingly no huge worries, And now: myeloma. I was shocked, and there isn't anything I can say. I start thinking about everything I've been through-and I'm still here, and I'm really in pretty good shape (so the consultants say) for my age. I'd be happier if they'd lay off the age!

Everything around me seems to be shifting. I've been ghosted-or is it correct to say "ignored" by a couple of people I've known for thirty years. I messaged my oldest friend in this country on WhatsApp, and she never replied. I did this twice-just to be sure-and nope, I'm history, apparently. And I understand from other friends that this is a trend that took off since lockdown. People are deciding where they want to live, what they want to do with their lives, and which people they choose to have in their lives. Huh-go figure.

I've actually been thinking along the same lines. Who stays? Who goes? Do I really want a moaner and whinger in my life-someone who only uses me as a dumping ground for their gripes? Excuse me! I'm enough of a moaner-but I usually either do it in an empty hours (what those walls could say if they could talk!) or here. And I have a sneaking suspicion that a lot of people who are reading this can relate.

So I'm going to try to walk off my depression-and try to remember all the things for which I should really be grateful. I'm also going to have a very large coffee..

Sometimes Life Just Sucks

 Years ago, someone wrote a book-which he started with "Life is difficult". Is that the understatement of the year, or what? His book was all about the benefits of psychotherapy, as I recall, and was quite boring, because that's all he had to say. He sold millions, then croaked. So his life was no longer difficult. And his next of kin, whoever inherited his millions-well, their lives weren't difficult, either.

I know. I'm such a cynic. I prefer to call myself a realist-and a pragmatist. Some people just call me a prat.

But there are times when everything you see, or touch, or involve yourself in-just turn to shit. So life then really does suck. It's been that sort of month for me. Storm Eunice (what a name, no wonder she was in such a bad mood), and I went out anyway, fell, and very nearly broke my back. I've spent the past four weeks lying on a heating pad; seems that I've cracked my sacrum, and done a lot of soft tissue damage, and (to add insult to injury) damaged my coccyx. No massive fractures, though. I'm really very, very lucky. So maybe I'm not such a prat and life doesn't suck after all...

Anyone who is awake will know that all our utilities are going to be much more expensive from the first of April. This is due to a shortage of fuel, and the fact that gas and oil are primarily supplied by Russia. And we all know about Russia. Why someone doesn't go over there and take out Putin-that psychopath, and war criminal, and general piece of crap, is a mystery.

I just received notification that my gas and electricity are going to double from the first of April. Double. I can't imagine what people with families, and houses, are going to go through. All over the country, people are asking the government how they are going to survive. Do they feed their families or do they have heating and electricity? Many can't do both. I've got a one bedroom apartment that's so small you couldn't swing a cat (if you seriously wanted to swing a cat. Or anything. It's just a saying, duh!). 

Now add to the utility prices doubling for everyone, the price of petrol is going sky high. So if you want to fill your gas tank, you just about have to take out a second mortgage. The prices of public transport (trains, buses, London Underground) are-you guessed it-going sky high, too. What does the government say? Walk. And what does the government do? Give all the MPs and local counsellors huge pay raises. Why? Have they earned them? Hell, no-they're just greedy. It's a disgrace. 

And, in case you're living in another country and reading this - feel absolutely grateful that you aren't living in this country. It's in a terrible state. And food prices are rising dramatically, too. This isn't because of Russia, it's because the demand is high, supplies are expensive, and everything went kaput for the past two years. Pay more and get less, is the saying now.

So there's the dismal state of affairs over here. Braindead Boris must be happy as can be because of the Ukrainian war; it takes people's minds off the fact that he is a crook, a despicable excuse for a human being, and should be kicked out of Downing Street at the earliest opportunity.

There isn't much to say about the Ukrainian war-except that Putin and all his allies should be arrested and tried for war crimes. Everyone did too little-and too late. Innocent people are dying, and Nato is doing nothing. In fact-sanctions are bull. They don't work against a homicidal maniac who fancies himself as the tsar. 

If Hillary had been elected, she wouldn't have stood for this. She would have been in front of Putin and would have stood on his head. That is something I would like to have seen.

Now you're pretty much up to date. And, since it's a bright, sunny day (for once), I'm going out and going to Starbucks. In April, it might be a different story altogether.

Grumpy Pants Rides Again (just not as fast)

 Did I say that I was going to stop being a moaning minnie-because it's boring? I did. I will. Just not today.

I'm by far not an anti-vaxxer. I think that everyone should have the Covid vaccine-at least, those people who want to stay alive and not kill all their nearest and dearest (assuming they've got nearest and dearest).

However! I had the booster two days after I last blogged-and I'm telling you, I thought I was going to die. I had the most horrific reaction-and I was so sick that I couldn't get out of bed for nearly a week. When I finally got out of bed, I fell over-and was just plain lucky that I didn't break any bones. It was horrible.

Now it's four weeks later-and it took most of the first three weeks to get back to normal. Then we had a storm called Eunice. Eunice! Whoever thought of that name must really hate women. Eunice. Blech!! If someone had named me Eunice, I would be in a very crap mood, too. 

The winds blew down trees, the roof of the O2 arena-used for concerts and special events-was destroyed, and Eunice left her mark everywhere. Electricity went out, areas were decimated-and dummy here actually went out to the shop in the early morning. Of course. Sooner or later I had to eat something, so off I went, being blown down the road. The return journey-usually only a ten minute walk-was the problem. I stepped off the kerb and was knocked over. I fell flat on my ass, frankly-I went down so hard that I could not get up again. Embarrassing, or what? A lovely young Japanese couple came over and helped me stand up again, and walked me to a near (ish) bench, where I sat for about twenty minutes and got my wind back. I moved my relevant body parts (arms, legs, everything), and I could move, so I figured that I hadn't broken anything. Again. Another fall. I obviously live a charmed life. Except that I finally went to see the doc, and I was told that I probably cracked my coccyx, my pelvis-I could go to have an x-ray-but I wasn't going to go anywhere near the hospital if I didn't have to.

Bottom line? I had the worst bruises on my backside, and I was so sore and swollen that I couldn't sit down  Excuse me. People have anal sex? They must be either insane or have no nerve endings. I fell on my ass and I was too sore to move for two weeks. Imagine if something went in where it's designed to only go out...

So there you are, and that's where I've been: on a heating pad for the past three weeks. Oh, joy. I couldn't even walk to get to Starbucks. That tells you a lot.

So that's my moan for the day-or month. We've had the two years-soon the "anniversary" of the lockdown will be upon us-as if we want to celebrate? Have you found that you dropped people out of your life in the time it took for you to really think about what you want, and who you want to keep in your life?

I have, too. People I've known for decades have been suddenly unavailable-or, they've been moaning even more that I do! One friend I've known for thirty years emailed me in the middle of the night to tell me how unhappy she is, and what crap her life has turned out to be. Now-I've always been everyone's repository for their moaning-and I've been my own repository for my own moaning, because I've always believed that if things are really bad, you either fix it, walk away-or shut up.

So I emailed her back (at 6am, but she was still sleeping. thank goodness), and I really had a go at her. I've heard this long winded dumping several times before, and I realized after I got a short reply, thanking me for caring about her, and saying that things look better in the light of day, that this will keep happening until I put a stop to it. She's becoming a Stepford Wife. that's her choice.

The whole point of sharing this story with you is that I can no longer waste my time being someone else's dumping ground-no matter how much I like them. And I'm willing to bet that those of you who read this, who share this with others, who either agree or agree to disagree-you've been there, too. So what do you do to let them know that you hear them, that you care about them? Unless you want to have one less friend (or more) - you stop responding. Just stop.

Eventually I'll get yet another self-indulgent, self-pitying load of cobblers, as my friend offloads her lifetime of grievances. Do I say: "you chose it. So live with it". Errr-even I'm not that cruel. Honest, but not cruel. No, I just don't comment at all. I'll be saying that I'm very sad that she feels that way. And that will be it. Then I'll change the subject... I'm heaving a big sigh. Don't let anyone give you a shit sandwich. Don't acknowledge, don't reciprocate, don't engage any more than you really have to.

Now, of course, if I could only take my own advice!!

I don't know about you-but it's most definitely time for a very strong coffee. And no more falling over.