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.
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