A long January day with no designated work. I woke bright and early with the pain and decided to use it to be productive. It’s amazing what you can save if you phone up and ask.
I’ve been overspending on my broadband to the tune of £15 a month, so that’s sorted now. I’ve sent in some meter readings and ordered a smart meter for gas and electricity. I’ve booked a free service for the boiler to change the magnaclean and make sure it’s all running well. Maria the cleaner showed up at 3 and has helped expunge the last of the Christmas horrorshow. The hob is pristine. The fridge is in order and all the off stuff is thrown into binbags which are out of the house with separate ones for recycling. Freezer isn’t done yet but it will be.
I’ve ordered a new vacuum cleaner. The old one finally gave up. I’ve ordered a little directional light to click onto my butsudan. My rotary shaver came in the post today but of course it only has a shaver plug on it so I can’t charge it up. I’ve ordered a convertor and I’ll have to wet shave for my audition tomorrow despite my new toy. I’ve put a calendar up and a few pictures on the walls. I’ve thrown a few bags of complete junk away. I’ve ordered a kitchen mandoline like the one that I jammed both my thumbs into about five years ago, a potato peeler and plenty more incense. I’ve thrown away more stuff than I’ve ordered.
Despite the pain I managed to bang the window frame so I’m not getting a constant freezing cold wind from the river down my back as I sleep. I laid aside my suit for tomorrow, learnt my lines and thought about approach. I’ll wake up early and do some more of that so I can go in prepared and have the best shot. I cooked good breakfast and good dinner and no lunch, as ever. I bought a half price diary and marked it up properly, then emailed possible day jobs. I unpacked the stuff I brought back from Carol and put it away properly. I tried to work out where the spare keys are. I burnt a lot of incense, had a good long chant, booked a car to help a grieving friend, and put Pickle Rick on the table in a silver platter.
I spoke to a physiotherapist but didn’t book the appointment yet. It’ll be £65 and I’m a little leery but I have a feeling it’ll be worth it to have a shot at not being on constant painkillers.
My tummy feels weird, even though I’m mixing the meds, or maybe because… It tends to be wake up to tylenol, afternoon with ibuprofen and bedtime with cocodamol on a very full stomach. It’s just as well that I’m off the booze, but my poor poor liver is getting no rest for the meantime.
I suspect it was the sobriety that catalysed the change, although pain turns out to be a very efficient alarm clock. I’d sooner have one of those lights that go on gradually and play birdsong or whatever. But pain’s what I got, and it works fine for now.