You may or may not have noticed that things got slightly messy with the postings here last week. The Mom would have you blelieve this is because I got confused or simply forgot to post them. Which would be wrong.
I set an alarm in my diary to remind me to post them. My memory is patchy at best, but the laptop knows what day it is.
Before The Mom set off on her holiday adventure, having no phone or laptop or iPad of her own (she has a very nice desktop though, so you needn’t feel she suffers and she can’t work a mobile phone for love nor money) Crazy D loaned her his iPad. Thus enabling her to watch the latest series of House of Cards on the long flight, take pictures whilst she’s there, and check her email. I was put in charge of the blog and thought that, since I was in charge, she wouldn’t be looking at it whilst in Oz. Frankly, I thought she wouldn’t be able to work out how to access the admin section or if she made it that far, remember her password.
Turns out I was wrong. The Mom is smarter than she would appear when you plop her in front of a new bit of tech kit. And she was looking at the blog, and in so doing, she managed to delete a few posts, which is why, Dear Reader, there was a strange blip last week. Hardly worth mentioning except for the series of apologetic emails I woke up to one morning, wherein she confessed to being unsure as to whether or not she’d deleted them.
But never mind, if that’s the worst thing that happened while she was away, it’s fine. She has never left us for this long before. I know I live in the UK but still, there are the weekly Skypes, the near daily emails. She’s checking up on me and in turn, answering my questions about how to function as an adult, or other random things like do I like sausages and if so why, what are my long-standing feelings on the colour purple, what did we have for Easter Dinner as children, and so on and so forth. I accumulate a lot of questions in the course of any given day, and since she’s The Mom I figure she’s as good a place to start as any. Besides which, I think the results on Google skew towards advertisers.
I’ve been in touch with Crazy D and L’il Sis mostly to moan about my deteriorating health. Since The Mom was away, obviously, I became unwell. Rather more dramatically than usual this time. An arthritis flare the likes of which I have not seen in decades. Decades. On the Sunday I had a stiff neck, not news, so I took a tablet and went to bed. Monday, screaming neck ache that turned into a headache and ear ache and also I couldn’t move my head in any of the directions. I thought, well, this happens, so propped myself up and took a few more tablets, hoping that would ease the inflammation. On Tuesday, it was no better so I went swimming, which is tricky to do when you can’t move your neck. It helps my back. It did not help my neck. On Wednesday, I dragged myself into the office and my boss took one look at me and marched me straight back out and forced me to go to the doc. Good thing too, since The Mom wasn’t around to do it.
I forget that sometimes doctors have helpful solutions. This one was quite helpful, and I was given a bunch of diazepam and offered some tramadol – a powerful opiate – because the pain was to the point where I thought that I might a) throw up b) pass out or c) burst into tears. I’m normally a big fan of narcotics, but I thought opiates was a bit far, plus, I might like them. A lot. So we settled on some codeine (because you know where you stand with that and I didn’t want to be screaming high on my own in a town where I don’t know anyone to call for help if I do something stupid). Anyhow, I informed L’il Sis and Crazy D about my new pills and they duly kept an eye on me from afar.
All I’ve heard from them about any change in living situation on their end is that they eat out of bowls and generally live like bachelors. Which, quite frankly, is not that different from when The Mom’s home. So we survived The Mom’s longest holiday ever. I have no idea if she can say the same.