Reviewing the Year

A photo from the first train journey yesterday, 
I have a lazy eye. 

I'm doing this before New Year listings this year, as it should be. Here's my review of the last year, inspired by something Jenny does every year (and does it so much better). I did it on Facebook, but here's the uncensored version.

1. What did you do in 2022 that you’d never done before?

- Got sacked - twice - through my own stupidity and actions (I mean, I've never been sacked before for any reason)
- Lived as me (294 days as of today)
- Bought foundation (elf Toffee as it happens is the best shade I've found)
- Wore make-up daily (and lipstick out out)
- Went round to a friend's house without a specific invitation and got let in and had a wonderful time (thank you, Abbi!!)
- Attended a Ladies' Night!!!

2. Did you keep your new years’ resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I mean... yeah. I smiled much more and I have worn nail varnish loads! Especially sparkly stuff (thanks Gary and Shiona!). I have also enjoyed being me more than before.

For next year:
Gain a job I can actually hold down! Preferably one that pays the bills.


3. Did anyone you know give birth?

I don't know, I don't think so. But, knowing me, probably. I am poor at keeping track of these things! I even missed my Dad's birthday.


4. Did anyone close to you die?

My old next door neighbour. A mark of how much I was known by them is the fact that I found out late via Tilly and wasn't invited to the funeral like she was (or involved in any way). But, I guess, they weren't that close.


5. What countries did you visit?

None really. Even Dreamland stopped opening up this year! Oh, wait, the past is like a different country, right? I visited there a fair bit! Mainly through the vehicle of this blog but also through old diaries and bits of stuff from my childhood. Learning just how long I have known about me and decided to deliberately avoid carrying things through to their logical conclusion.


6. What would you like to have in 2023 that you lacked in 2022?

Easier to answer this than last year actually. I still would like electrolysis, maybe get my legs waxed too. Also, more fundamentally, a job that pays the bills. I should also like something relationship wise, but that's been pretty obvious. Could it be Five? I mean, maybe. Maybe I should pay the pound and see what POF (a dating website) has to offer?


7. What date from 2022 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

5 January - The first foundational shake of the upcoming horror
5 February - a Ladies' Night (my first) and such a lovely time!
10 February - A complaint
11 February - A suspension
11 March - the last time I wasn't me (just in the morning, I got sent a hat by a friend)
14 April - I got my name legally changed!!!!
23 April - The local govt agreed with my name!!!
15 June - A final meeting, I learned I would no longer be a teacher
20 July - I was sacked the first time
22 July - I made a new friend!!! (*waves at Abbi*)
29 October - Retail Therapy
7 December - Sacked a second time
8 December - Chams Christmas Party!!!


8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Making a new friend, and maintaining (rediscovering?) old ones!


9. What was your biggest failure?

There are, in fact, two of equally momentous nature. One of them is being sacked twice. The other is also dual in that I lost access to my Youngest and my Eldest decided that she didn't want to interact with me any more. Both of which were, like the sackings, entirely my fault. "Some mistakes are life defining, and we live with the consequences, they taint us forever."


10. Were you seriously ill during 2021?

No. Bad cold at the end of July was the worst it got. And that wasn't so bad.

Yes, this.

11. What was the best thing you bought?

- A place in the Pokemon tournament in May for my Middlest
- Some K-Pop albums for my Eldest
- Some Action Driver Playsets for my Youngest

A collar (even if the lock doesn't work properly), a new pinafore dress, some new scrunchies.

12. Whose behaviour merited celebration?

My children, obviously.
Jenny - offering support, sharing stories, and a vixen necklace!!
Abbi - when I think of all that has happened this year, just this friendship alone is a good reason for things to have happened the way they did.
Shiona and Gary - almost bottomless support throughout the whole year.
Tim - continuously being in touch and offering support.
All my friends from teaching, for a whole host of reasons too numerous to mention, but especially Miss Warrington (coming to visit, sending the pendant)
Indy and their Imperator - a visit to test drive being me, clothing donations and loaning their eldest to mix with my Middlest at a Pokemon tournament.
My Mum and Dad - just... acceptance, support and love.
The whole of the Chams massive, the Trans* Mafia.


13. Whose behaviour made you appalled and depressed?

Mine - I don't think I have to explain this one.


14. Where did most of your money go?

Plugging financial black holes due to the whole being sacked thing.


15. What did you get excited about?

- Pokemon TCG
- The potential for a workplace transition - to teach as me - alas, not realised
- Living full time as me
- Talking to old friends
- A write-in (didn't happen yet, but hoping it will soon!)


16. What songs will always remind you of 2022?

Heilung - Anoana
Heilung - Traust
Andy Hunter - Go
Heilung - Drif (whole album)
Bloodywood - Jee Veerey
Bloodywood - Ari Ari
Bloodywood - Dana Dan
Electric Six - Down at McDonnelzzz
Bo Burnham - Welcome to the Internet
Bo Burnham - All Eyes on Me


17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder?
Given how happy I was this time last year it's sadder, alas.

ii. thinner or fatter?
Thinner - I was over 12 stone last year, now I'm closer 10.

iii. richer or poorer?
Hard to say. Poorer still than last year financially. Learning more about the riches I uncovered last year.


18. What do you wish you’d done more of?

Reading books, being with my children, guarding against my own undermining of myself - taking what I am good at and running it into the ground as I do. Chasing my referral to the local GIC, I'm fairly certain it'll have been quietly dropped since last year. Oh! Hair removal generally and having more baths. I have plenty of lovely bath stuff, so I hope to use it in the coming year.


19. What do you wish you’d done less of?

- Pushing myself to work more hours, to the point of exhaustion
- Hoping that my black-painting of things was worse than it could have been
- Pouring water out of the loft from the leak
- Finding leaks around the shower (better than not doing so, I suppose)

- Meltdowns


20. How did you spend Christmas?

Oop North with my Mum


21. How many one night stands?

As many as I usually have. Which is to say: none


22. Did you fall in love in 2022?

Not really. I mean... No, not really. I don't think. I do clearly have an ideal for the relationship with Five but I'm not certain I could characterise that as love per se so much as perhaps some longing and a bit of lust.


23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Me. Interestingly, this time last year, I actually began to like myself a bit. By February I was positively okay with who I was and who I hoped to become. Despite everything I was able to hold on to the concept of being misunderstood, that I was a decent human being. Now...? Hmm.


24. What was your favourite TV programme?

Not really watched any TV, so... Does YouTube count?
If so:
- hbomberguy - Vaccines: A Measured Response
- Philosophy Tube
- Turbos and Tantrums
- Some More News
- Jenny Nicholson
- Contrapoints
- Mia Mulder
- Jago Hazzard
- Taskmaster (but on YouTube)


25. What was your greatest musical discovery?

Broken Peach! In the video below the second lady from the right is very much #goals

26. What was the best book you read?

Amongst Our Weapons - Ben Aaronovitch, also, amusingly, the last book I read.

I can recommend Ten Steps to Nanette by Hannah Gadsby too.


27. Are you happy with your lot?

Not really, no.


28. What did you want and get?

The chance to live full-time as myself.


29. What did you want and NOT get?

The chance to teach as myself.


30. What was your favourite film of this year?

Actually this happened late: Glass Onion. Really.


31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?

I didn't do anything and I was 42. I do not hold out too much hope that this coming year will be any different, truth be told. It appears my assassination of my birthday has been strong and is hard to break. However, I shall say that a card and gift from Shiona and Gary this year was most welcome!


32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Not losing out on teaching as a career. Still having contact with my Eldest and not having ruined contact with my Youngest.


33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2022?

Cheap! But, honestly, pinafore dresses and Chelsea boots, with collars and... well, a bit subby if we're being brutally honest.


34. What kept you sane?

My old friends
New friends
Walking to IKEA for free teas
Chatting and bouncing at a friend's house
Izzy, old Uni friends and others


35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

Mina Anwar c.1995


36. What political issue stirred you the most?

Honestly, none this year. Johnson's resignation? Trussonomics? The invasion of Ukraine?


37. Who did you miss?

My children. The me I was at the start of the year.


38. Who were the best new people you met?

Abbi and Alex
Five
Renee
Glyn


39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2022:

Knowing yourself is no protection from being yourself. I found myself last year and thought I could simply enjoy who I was, only to find that I was still up to my old tricks and undermining all the good.


40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:

Here I come again to you, just to show the blood soaked through
Through my bones and all I own, is there a way for me to grow?
I walk to you, rain falls from you
Can you wash me, can you drown me, please?
[...]
I’ve been told by the sky that the ocean I shall win
But it’s hard for me to see where ocean stops, and where sky begins
A random strike of light reminds me of what is true
But right now the ocean is blacker than black, the sky is too

- Drown, Twenty-One Pilots

And now follows some TMI noodling that I've had in my head for a bit. So, don't click the line-break if you don't want to know: you have been warned!!

One Year On

So much has changed, but also so little.

Fascinating to put them side by side.

One year since the events that took me in a new direction - that swerved me from dreaming about maybe possibly doing something on the road to full-time transition at an ill-defined future point to making a decisive move to be me. A day that reconnected me with old friends, who should never have been disconnected, and brought home how lucky I was to have the support and love of my Mum. Today has been the anniversary of letting Gary, Shiona and Tim into who I am and Shiona shared a lovely photo of that day. I didn't even recoil from it - it's still me, funnily enough, underneath the coat and hunting trousers. Oof, the hunting trousers - Tilly's suspicion that they weren't male (whatever that meant at the time, I am none the wiser) - bought because I couldn't face buying more jeans in a masculine style. Hmm, not a memory I thought would be sparked by writing about this day a year ago.

Wrinklier. Older.

Wetter today, but also Oop North, so not gone out - spent the say watching Glass Onion, Knives Out and, with tea, Whiskey Galore! (the 2016 version). I liked the first two actually, in particular Glass Onion - was not expecting that. Yesterday was spent with Gary and his boys with a friend (whose pseudonym on here escapes me) playing Warhammer - which was nice. I struggled, not because of the company or the situation, but because of me. I worried that I would be stepping on toes - plans had been made and my own visit was a much less planned for affair - worried about having to fill people in on why I was sacked a second time: the shame of being what I am and doing what I did, I guess. Luckily, conversation stayed rooted in the games, and when Shiona returned with our friend's partner conversation stayed in much more comfortable areas. Including old friends and acquaintances finding out about me.

Applied to be a Prison Officer today. There was an online personality test, apparently accurate, that told me I was highly numerate; average at caring and communication; above average at being honest and showing integrity but crap at making effective decisions. They've invited me on to the next stage, just got to book it in. Women's prison though: can you imagine the furore if certain GCs get hold of this sort of thing? I can. Hmm.

Got a lot to philosophise over but now is not the time - maybe on the train home tomorrow. A day afterward, as is traditional. 

We Hope You Have Fun

So this is Christmas. And what have I done? Another year over, a new one just begun.

This is an older photo of my old church - you can tell 
because the grave stone/memorial on the right there has 
since fallen down. 

That red carpet? It's been there since I first started going 
back in the 1980s, so it must be at least 30+ years old. 
Not sure why I thought you needed to know that... 

But, maudlin rendition of War is Over aside, it's been very different to normal. No staying with Tilly and the children this year, no stopping over at friends. No. This year I went back to my Mum's, a day earlier than originally suggested, and have spent the day there. We went to church in the morning - first time at the church of my youth as myself - and it was quite... It was lovely to go back to where I went as a young'un and see many of the same people there that I remember from those days - not my generation but the older ones, the people that ran my youth groups and were the young parents of my day. Most of them are now old and grey and survivors of heart attacks and strokes - the grey brigade of my youth I suppose - but I was struck by how people just didn't flinch at seeing me as myself. Some of whom I would have expected some polite flinching. Everyone just... well, they were lovely.

Then I had a video chat with my boys and Tilly - Eldest refused to chat with me even through my Mum - and that was nice (if nausea inducing as they moved the phone around incessantly). Then it was off to my Mum's friends for the Christmas meal. It was nice. Lots of misgendering but in a genuinely trying hard way so it wasn't bad. No one used anything other than my name and they were all smiling - not being difficult - so whilst I noted it, and wondered at it, it was naught but positive.

I loved the character - geeky and
meek, but also fiercely protective
of her friends and strangely self-assured.

I even had a text from Five, which I confess I melted a bit over - Lord knows what the relationship I have there is, but it is clear what relationship I would like to have there. We watched the Goodness Gracious Me Christmas special from 1997 last night, randomly, and that was... interesting. Some of it hadn't aged a day and some had, but not in a way I would have preferred. I hadn't realised how powerfully progressive the comedy was, how hard-hitting some of it was supposed to be back when I enjoyed it as a teen (showing my age there), and how much it had clearly influenced my thinking on race and multiculturalism and Britishness (a few of the political lines in the sketches I noticed because they are lines I have used in my teaching, for example, and never realised I borrowed them from the show). But, and this is the part that led me to make connections, I remembered how much I fancied Nina Wadia at the time (and also Mina Anwar, who played Constable Habib in The Thin Blue Line around the same time - she popped up in another thing we watched after the special, just as I was Googling her name because I had remembered her). Basically, I had a 'type' then and it turns out that 1997-8 me liked women of Indian sub-continental heritage (and, yes, I realise that is culturally insensitive - but I don't know what else to describe it as). Indeed, when my Dad took me to the Queen's Garden Party in 2005 (oh, I know) I found myself mooning over women of such backgrounds in the grounds of Buckingham Palace. So, nothing new under the sun.

I mean, honestly, do you blame me?

Apparently she's been in loads of stuff
but I shall be honest and say I only remember
her on Goodness Gracious Me.

My Mum got me some eye-shadow (lovely palate, she doesn't know much about 'girly things' she tells me, but it matches my colour quite nicely), some make-up brushes (I suspect a regift, but I am not complaining) and some bath-bombs. Honestly, some of the best presents she's ever gifted, and I mean that as a compliment. Along with a card to her daughter (yes, dear reader, I melted) sent a week or so ago.

I left some lovely presents from Abbi at home (because I shall be returning by train and wanted to travel as light as I could) - a mug with antlers on it (hee!); a plush unicorn to replace the bunny I have stolen from my Youngest and some bath bombs inamongst those - and a parcel from a friend from University (we shall call him Maynard, as I suspect he has turned up in this record before under that name) that I have not yet opened.

Mum has also been introduced to Blackpool and I watched it for maybe only the third time. Still genius, still impossible to explain (it's a gritty murder mystery with flawed characters set in a decaying and dying Blackpool but it's also a musical and has David Tennant pre-Ten in it). If you haven't already, go and watch it - you won't be disappointed unless my poor description specifically made you pull a face. Even then, you should ignore my horrendous attempt to distill its crazy magic and watch it on its own terms - the first episode ought to either hook you in or turn you off. In fact, the opening scenes ought to do it.

A very Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year, let's hope it's a good one without any fear.

Running Up

How things change and shift over time.

Sneaky selfie. This was where my Dad and 
I had lunch. He even complimented the jumper, 
said I looked good in it. 

He did also say that I lacked feminine features, 
which was... well, he was being fair I feel. 

Now the plan is that I go north with my mother for Christmas day, and the sad fact is that Tilly was very helpful and supportive of that. She has what she wanted: what did I hive up when I left? Well, I've given it up now I suppose. They came back from the family holiday yesterday, my mother has successfully arranged to see all three children on Thursday, when I am not there, so I shall get to have an interview for JSA instead, maybe even get to drop in on Abbi and Alex - who have been ill. I also got to join an old work colleague out in some pubs on Sunday evening - I paid bus fare - and when the middlest came over today I even used a voucher to get us a take out (first since March apparently) for £3.50 all in.

Medical took place today for one of the bus driving jobs and passed off without a hitch: I am apparently just 179cm tall and weigh 10st 7oz - which is much more like I remember my weight. I suppose being unemployed and stressed will do that. Condensation in the bathroom is bad again (it was this time last year too) but no showers since Sunday, so hopefully it will clear. I went to IKEA instead of the intended write-in with Abbi (cancelled due to illness). No hot chocolate, the machine was out, but some tea and some soft drinks. I even managed to finish the book I was reading, so that was nice.

Out having beers on Friday night, this was
later on in the evening. It was great to catch
up with Izzy and have a night out of the house.

Alas, I was in trainers and I had failed to make
picking me up easier by walking out to meet
Izzy, thus the trainers were just a poor footwear
choice!

Friday was spent out at Invasion with Izzy - who had dressed well for the evening and did her usual networking and chatting. It was nice. I spoke to some nice people, got a bit of conversation in, had some beer (though, frankly, I should have had soft drinks - it was a good night and the beer wasn't in the same league). However, one of the photos I got looks... well, you'll see what I mean.

Tomorrow I have an interview for a night-shift position paying more than the bus job. I don't want to work nights, if I'm honest, and I likely won't get it because it is education adjacent and my sacking looms large in such things. I have also applied for a posh job in HMRC that, if I were to get it (I won't), would pay roughly what I used to get as a teacher. I don't stand a chance, of course, but I applied anyway, it would be a poor do if I did not. Speaking of which, Five has also applied to HMRC for, I think, the same job. They've gone down south to spend Christmas with their mother too - I got a flurry of texts as they were on the road (not driving, obviously). I still have literally no idea what our relationship even is - but it seems positive.

A thaw brings warmer weather, and a return of the leak in the loft since next-door's roofer left me with a big gap in my roof (it'll be fixed when he comes to fix it, whenever that is). Sleeping downstairs banished the frost on my duvet these last few days, but did my back in - turns out sleeping as long as I did on the sofa bed has largely removed my ability to do so comfortably these days. Also, sending off my driving license for the bus driver job may scupper my chances at JSA, which is £77 a week less. I shouldn't complain.

On the Friday I couldn't see the screen
well enough to judge this when I took it.

I blame being tired.

It explains why I tend not to get talked to
though, doesn't it!

My Dad was up Sunday as well, sad that my brother and his family had stayed less than five hours the day before, my Dad stayed with me less than three. Ah. But he listened to my digressions on how long I appear to have known about me and encouraged me to look into proof-reading or maybe writing for a living. He pointed out he hadn't read anything I'd written since my dissertation back in the early 2000s and apologised - he was about to promise to read the novel draft I'd sent him back in 2012, but thought better of it and stopped short. Which is fair, I think.

This time last year I had been to see my mother and my brother on a trip to see my grandmother. I had taken the whole family. Eldest was still stopping over at my place regularly, I was still able to see youngest without Tilly in tow. I had a job that seemed secure. I had finances, I was worried about condensation and leaks but had come out the other side of worrying about myself. I had steeled myself for the wrong fights with the wrong people about the wrong things. I had a car - it would allow me to pop north on a whim almost and set in motion the final push to being me full-time. In two days time I would finish work for the Christmas period, see a film at the cinema and buy some lovely Chelsea boots (that finally gave up the ghost about a month or so ago having been abused significantly in my walking patterns, the next pair should last longer). 2021 may stand as my greatest ever year for a long while yet. I had hoped that 2022 would be better.

Indulgence and Imagination

Another post about divergence.

Behind me was the wall, to the left was the big green 
chest with my femme clothing in it. I was very pleased 
with things and had just started to dress mainly in female 
pyjamas as standard by December 2006. 

Following my relationship with Toby I was so close to recognising myself and what I was and am. In the summer following I would shave my legs properly for the first time and begin collecting a wardrobe that I would wear reasonably regularly. In summer the year afterward I would buy a house and I started storing my wardrobe accessibly, I bought new clothes in person too - a lovely pink jumper with some white blouse effect cuffs and a collar. I updated socks, some knickers, a new bra... I planned my bedroom around wearing femme clothing - hanging my sword proudly in that room, something I now know to be a bit of a tell of something else other than just being a fan of swords. Had I not gone on holiday to the States that year I would doubtless have bought a dress, doubtless worn something out for a wander in the woods. As it was I went to the States and got talking to Tilly. Nevertheless, I was planning going out.

It was August. You can see hints.

When Tilly moved in the following February I shelved the wardrobe, literally, in my actual wardrobe. The bedroom was rearranged and dressing was ruled out. My socks and new clothes were relegated to drawers, the plans I had of dressing waiting until we could discuss things. So what if I had asked Tilly to pay rent in those early months? I suspect our relationship wouldn't have lasted long. What if I had shown her my wardrobe as I nearly did so many times? I suspect we would have broken up. And the end of 2007 would have come not with a new job nor the announcement of a pregnancy but with me returning that summer to dressing, now sad at the end of another relationship. That depression, for that is what I was suffering, would have propelled me to go out dressed in the woods during that summer, for real.

And, if my eventual trajectory can be used here, I rather suspect that by the end of the year I would have realised about myself.

Part of me wants to write out that potential history as an experiment in the written form. Yesterday, walking back from IKEA, I was trying to work out how to present it: how to write it. Like many of my fiction projects it relies heavily on knowing things that only I know because they are tied up in how I live my life entirely in my own head. In the late 90s I wrote a series of short stories that no one but me ever read (still haven't) and, toward the end of the period, I considered writing a story about two people who made each story happen - maybe they were angels or something - which would work for anyone that had read all the stories. In other words: me. My divergence posts, and there are a few on here, work in much the same way.

14 years later. A different place, a different time.

The shirts obscure the drying knickers and tights; and,
in the background, piled shirts obscure my femme wardrobe
in the box beneath.

An offer was made today, a welcome one, but I did my usual when faced with such naked support and generosity: I turned it down. Someone needed support and understanding, and I offered nothing but a pained expression and assertion of truth. I am back to the old days, back to being unable to summon the compassion I was channelling before February this year, struggling to deal with feelings in the world of the non-autistic.

My nails are red, I keep saying this, but it is gel-effect polish and I got to apply it with a friend who had planned for me to be involved from the beginning. Thinking about that is overwhelming. I am amazed that I did it, that I accepted that generosity, that support, that friendship.

Henri Nouwen tells the story of how he came
to identify with each of the characters depicted
here in this painting of the return of the prodigal
son.

In the parable, there is no 'Good Son'. Not really.

Early on in this blog there is an incident when a friend came to visit, not long after the birth of Middlest, and he and I were left with my daughter. Tilly was struggling, she'd gone out for a much needed time alone with my friend's wife without worrying about me or the eldest child. That incident did not end well. I lost it: overwhelmed by stress and depression, I melted down at my young daughter. Later I would stress out at my friend too due to work stuff and struggle to recover - if I recovered at all. In amongst that kind of remembering it is helpful to fantasize about points of divergence, where everyone could have had lives unaffected and unbruised by such horrors. Perhaps not helpful, but certainly beguiling. Like my understanding of It's a Wonderful Life and the reason I both loathe it and love it as a film: if I were to be removed from reality and not born, most people I know would be much better off - like Homer in the Treehouse of Horror episode (I think). But here on earth is where I am: no wings to fly, no strength to stand.

Tomorrow my Dad is up to visit - the original trip to his commuted to a meal out with just him. Like the proposed trip Oop North to see my Mum. Commuted due to costs and the difficulties of me being without a means to travel. In the old days I was the 'Good Son' - in the family estimation and in the parable - in that I sent all the cards, made all the visits and tried to do right. I had the respectable job, made the money, had the house and the lifestyle and the time and the money to send presents. I was a teacher with passion and vision, who changed lives in small ways and was enthused about that. I offered the financial help, I did not ask it, apart from when my car was totalled in 2011, something about which I still have nightmares or dreams, and when I fouled up moving house in 2013. But I paid back what was loaned in both cases, and in short order too. Because I could afford it.

Now I am the basket case.

Bat Country

Monday.

I don't mind photos of me now. I no longer 
feel like I'm lying.

But they do feel awfully indulgent. 

Sunday was spent donning gel effect nails and catching up with Abbi and Alex. Sunday was good. Monday was spent hitting IKEA, a blast from the recentr past, and having hot chocolate and coffee whilst reading a book (going to do it again tomorrow). Today was spent interviewing for another bus company. Successfully. Pay is slightly better over six months than the last one and the depot is closer - with a free bus to get there for early shifts (no, no idea how that works either).

I may well, therefore, be a bus driver after all. Is that what Him Upstairs is pushing me towards?

Flicking through old photos I came across records of my time in the flat. All the children over regularly, videos of them playing and dancing, images of them staying over together and the bunk beds. Evidence of me spending over £130 a month on 'extras' like take aways and snacks for the children - before accounting for treats and spending money or going to Pokemon tournaments or travelling regularly to take Eldest to Dance or the Middlest to the gaming cafe or all three on days out and trips to see my mother in holidays.

No photos of me though. One isolated image from around Christmas 2020 because my Mum had sent pyjamas for us all and wanted a photo of me and the children together in them. I obliged.

Today, waiting for my interview.

I need to wash my hair tomorrow at the very
least. I hope to also shave pits, chest and may
expand to include my legs.

In 2020 I could easily have afforded a professional
waxing if I'd wanted. Hell, I could have done that
in 2021. But I worried about repairs.

Now I cannot afford that.

Walking to the job interview today along the canal tow path was good. I have six days worth of washing up to do that I have avoided. The family are down south with Tilly's parents for over a week now. My house is cold. I have red nails. I am sleeping downstairs to avoid heating my bedroom, windows open to deal with damp (it's working).

In 2016 my beer blog took off, it gained over 36k views in December that year, rising to over 40k in the January. By August 2017 the success had scared me off updating the blog and I didn't post again until February 2018. Eventually it died off completely and I did not post reliably again until 2020, whereupon I learned my relationship was over and no longer felt like reviewing ales any more. I always thought I would go back to it. I never have. Originally I budgeted £67 per month for posh beers, approximately one a week, and now...

Even a good job, like the bus driving gig, won't pay all my bills. It leaves around £400 shy a month. I would, once again, be beholden to examining to plug the gaps - like I always have been. At least since 2010.

Had a G&T tonight, along with a stir-fry that was Chinese-style cuisine adjacent. And I have red nails and attended an interview in my Roman suit again. At least I remembered my glasses.

Reality and Fantasy Horror

But there is a treason at sea. Is it me? [...] I am solo in this world of wet and bitter is my temperament.

Middlest and I have now watched the first 
of the discs in its entirety. Still don't have 
a working controller so to view extras and 
put up the subtitles, but at least I can watch 
it. My original workhorse DVD player (multi-
region) is still in my Eldest's room. 

But I have friends. I attended the Chams Christmas Party and had a great time: Izzy was there, I was able to meet with Ann properly and actually have a conversation where I wasn't panicking. I got to have a lovely day out with a friend from Chams before going (bit expensive, but I did volunteer to pay for lunch). I have spent time round at Five's and seem to be liked by their child. I had a good time with the Smallest yesterday, Middlest has been over since yesterday afternoon and, so far, things are good. We have watched several episodes of Mysterious Cities of Gold (itself a gift from yet another good friend) and I am looking forward to a Sunday with Abbi.

Shower leak: seems less bad than I supposed, investigations this morning showed there was water after my shower but not during Middlest's - I thus suspect the hot-water pipe. Also, it suggests that changing the towel might yield results for now. It's temporary, I know, but could eke things out a little longer.

A cold snap, damp on the walls of my bedroom - now never more than 9 degrees, regularly around 5 - and an attempt to keep the house warm for visitors has set me back almost £18 in the last two days. This is an untenable amount of money now that I am uinemployed. I have run numbers, I have reserves from my examining, and I can cope until March. I can even survive on the money from driving buses, assuming I get £2k a year from examining going forward, but I shall never again have savings.

It's the clash of planning and where I am: the horror of my fears and the warmth of the friends and acquaintances I have been gifted with. A leap of faith, but with the underpinning maths telling me that all that lies ahead is failure. Like a Taskmaster task but with a litany of known failures and no confidence in my ability to think outside the box. It's hard to know what to do.

I mean, it is only on for £15.

But I put aside enough garments to hit
£70, and I cannot justify that at all.

I would have struggled even without
being unemployed, actually.

For most of my life I have rarely thought of the future. Mainly because I didn't want to think about it too much or too closely because I knew what lurked there, or thought I did, and did my best to ignore it. And I did. And it burned, it hurt, and as the depression came and sat heavily I stopped looking forward as I no longer cared what may come: I didn't matter. I was open to the vagaries of God's plan because I had no plans: it was how I ended up as a teacher, how I ended up in each of the jobs I took. Then, of course, I found I did care about the future. I found a way in which I was actually excited about where I might go and what may happen. At the end of 2021 I began to imagine a future that genuinely thrilled me.

But without the horrors of the months after February I would not have met Abbi, I would not have developed my ties and friendship to Gary and Shiona as much as I have been able to do, I would never have even met Five, still less considered what relationship I have with them. I may not have lost my relationship with the Eldest, nor lost the opportunity to have Youngest over without Tilly. I would still have worried about finances, still have leaks, still be stressed, still have made mistakes. In all of this, I do not regret my embracing of myself and being me full time now. It has not caused, directly, any problems whatsoever in my life, to be honest. It has brought naught but good things, it has just taken place at the same time as other things that have been less than fun.

My application hose continues to spray, I have ordered more foundation, I can't afford things like take out nor occasional clothing purchases like I hoped. An application is in for Job Seeker's Allowance and for PiP (on the advice of the Citizen's Advice Bureau).

On the Buses

Today was not what I expected at all. Don't know what I was expecting but today was certainly not it. Especially not after the return of the leak from the shower into the kitchen yesterday (my emergency towel under the floorboards was heavy and sodden. Oh). I managed my shift reasonably well yesterday, but felt very flat again. I also got my letter about the up-coming disciplinary, which made me feel very down, after sorting out identity properly with my mortgage lenders. Hopefully I shall be able to clear that up and change my mortgage a bit this week. Very grateful indeed to have spent some time round Abbi's on Sunday, very grateful indeed! I was treated to home-made Mac'n'cheese but with personal tweaks and experimentation - it was amazing!

Point? The build did not suggest how the day would go today, being my day off.

Back up: what?

I look so very different without glasses. 
Given this is how I looked for my interview 
(I'm wearing my Roman suit underneath the 
raincoat) I am amazed they offered anything! 

Also: hat-hair!!! 

I had an interview at a bus company this morning to get to on my day off. I was not holding out a great deal of hope, but knew that if I got an all-day bus ticket I may bob on up to Five to get my brolly back - they'd not been in contact in a while so I figured get my brolly and run. I'd have left it but recent rain convinced me I needed that brolly. Anyway, I was ready later than plannd, leaving two hours to make the appointment after setting off. Figured that was long enough. Bus took 90 minutes, then ten minutes' walk. Oh, so more or less on time. Nowhere near as early as I would have liked. Also, in my haste to leave I forgot my glasses so felt strange and realised how much more glaring everything is without them. It was amazing to re-realise how much of a difference, positive, they make to my quality of life!

Anyway, tests at the bus company - the sort I usually foul up somehow - and I did. My hazard perception raised red flags but, after a discussion, this seemed down to the fact that I internalised a lesson my Mum taught me when she became an Advanced Driver: when you are confident in your threat perception is when accidents happen. I volunteered this before they asked the question, not knowing they would ask about Advanced Driving, which impressed the interviewer. The interview after a personality test seemed lovely, but I've had that before at IKEA. I thus left thinking I was unlikely to get anywhere. Called up Five, got an agreement to pop by around 3pm, and wandered to see if I fancied an expensive coffee at my Vegan local cafe gaming favourite but found I did not, so came home for lunch. Where I watched a video that actually brought tears to my eyes. It's really wholesome and not at all what you expect. Yeah, it's an advert, I don't care.

Last bus home, skew-whiff glasses model's
own.

I 'ate you, Butler!

That was from the right show, right?

Five asked me to pick up some eggs, having shared that they'd been ill lately, and I said I would and bring sympathy with me. I missed the bus, got the next one, then walked on over with eggs just on time. Five's child was very pleased to see me, Five said I would get a positive phone call and then invited me to saty for a meal. Turns out they'd been in hospital with internal bleeding and a bad infection, hence the lack of contact, this was the first day they'd felt well enough to eat and stand up. Oh. Of course I stayed, they cooked (insisted) and it was truly amazing food! Like, posh restaurant quality, but in proper portion sizes. Their child got to tell me things and I had a lovely time - even introduced them to the original Adult Wednesday Addams on YouTube (I highly recommend) - getting the last bus home at 8pm - yes, that is an early last bus home.

But there was a point, as I made my way to Five's, where I felt the world being untethered again. I have felt that a few times this last year: on the Friday I was suspended (accompanied by a twisting and a sick feeling in my stomach); on 14 March as I walked as me, resolute in being me full-time, to IKEA for free hot drinks and committed to whatever happened - job or Joanna fully decided; as I left the meeting in June realising that my gambit had failed and I was going to lose my job either by jumping or being pushed; when the car was collected for t, buthe last time and the first time I went round to Abbi's but this was largely positive! And, now, today.

Sure enough, I was phoned at Five's, and I was offered the job. Medical and forms on 11 January - dependent on the vagaries of getting a provisional license from the DVLA for a proper start date. We shall see if I still have a retail job in the meantime I suppose. And I have another interview (different bus company, a bit more local) next Tuesday. No brolly, but a standing invite to Five's now too.

Honestly, I was expecting to have a bit more of a philosophical pootling around this but I am too cold and still worrying about tomorrow. Still, a parcel to pick up, milk to buy (maybe) and some cocktail sticks to source by Thursday for the Chams Christmas do. I am looking forward to that. I booked the day off, so regardless of outcome I shall have a free Thursday. I intend to use it.

All in the Balance

Long a not quite expressed dream, being a female teacher, 
on this blog: now unattainable - but not for the reasons that 
I had long supposed. 

I am sorry, to all those that believed in me, I am sorry. 

Yesterday the teaching agency was in touch twice. They've checked with their Head of Compliance - they can't represent me as I have been dismissed for Gross Misconduct. Figures. I wish they'd told me that before I was charged nearly £40 for an Enhanced DBS (which I passed, of course). Expensive and a bit of a blow, but par for the course at this point. Then I found that my mortgage lender hadn't updated my reecords properly when I'd gone in and changed my name back in April so I can't change my mortgage deal at the moment to easily knock £17 off one payment and maybe as much as £80 off the other. Not bad, but a faff for Monday morning. It means digging out my old passports again and I can't recall what I did with them. I'll need them for Tuesday anyway, what, with the interview for driving buses.

An artefact of a better time, one with
more hope than I realised at the time.

A time when I watched old films with my
eldest children and made believe that I was
laying firm foundations to support them as a
father. Rather than building up a pyre that would
burn later on.

Middlest was over from last night. He brought The Force Awakens to watch, but then demurred on actually doing so. He misses how things used to be, he says, when I was in the flat - when he came over with Eldest and sometimes Smallest. He misses take outs, he misses going places in the car, he misses the hope and promise I was feeling (he didn't put it quite like this, but it sums up what he was trying to explain) when I was in the flat and immediately after I moved. Before the leak from the shower ruined everything. Even afterwards he thought it would have been fine, but something happened. He doesn't know it, but he's talking about the Saga of the Many Leaks from around this time last year and then the unpleasantness that means I can no longer teach. Ever again. Still stings.

We walked out to town today, first time since last summer (when I still had a car, when Eldest still came over) and he struggled with not wanting to buy a toy car or anything like it. He was all painted out, they'd gone as a family to mark the start of the Festive Season to paint some pottery things recently and he'd had a lot of fun. I could feel his melancholy and disappointment coming in waves. Ended up at a distant supermarket, where we'd go when I lived in the flat, and he got some chicken legs with his pocket money (reader, I felt awful, but I can't afford to sub that any more) and ate them on the way home. It was a nice walk. Got me out of the house for more than work for the first time since whenever the last time was. I only left the house to greet him on Friday, only getting dressed in the half hour before he arrived.

Earlier this year. I had not yet discovered
foundation. I also had not yet realised that you
could wear a handbag across the body!
At this point I still thought I could
be a teacher. I thought I could keep my job.

I did not yet know Abbi and Alex. I had not
met Five. My daughter still came to visit. I had
not exploded my relationship with Smallest.

Is this payment for the time to become myself? I had over 100 days of practice, which was magical. I met new friends (though Five has fallen silent) like Abbi and Alex. I would not have had this had my life not gone the direction it has. I would not take that back even if I could.

But I have lost part of who I thought I was in teaching. And I have seemingly lost my daughter. Is anything worth that price? I say this like it was imposed upon me, no, it was the result of actions I undertook, decisions I made and things I did. Responsibility lies with me and me alone for losing my job and my daughter and access to my youngest. The ongoing issues with the house are mine too, for defying the wise counsel of my mother and others who warned me against leaping in as I did. I could have pulled out.

Maybe without the leaks adding stress in a stressful time I could have survived a little longer in teaching. But I would not have met Abbi and Alex. I might not have taken the plunge on being Joanna full time. I already know, from experience, that I could not go back on being Joanna - however much it  may be a comfort to believe that I could have done so or even should have done so - and I value my friendship with Abbi too much to contemplate not having met her and her wonderful husband. And the support from Gary and Shiona I would not trade even for having a teaching career back. However much I wish I could claim I would.

Now? I aim for an early night - hope to get through another shift tomorrow. I have one month's pay coming on Friday. A £500 hole is better than a £2,000 hole.

Bullet Points

Bullets are the beauty in a blistering sky, bullets are the beauty and I don't know why.

Eldest doesn't want to rebuild things with me. Nor me to try with her.

The potential teaching gig fell at the wording of the dismissal from my last place, like I originally feared.

IKEA application rejected a second time.

Leak remains, as far as I know, unrepaired. I shan't know until it rains.

First acknowledgement of anything I've done at work for a week is a moan about how little I am doing.

Chances high of having no work soon. But I've put in another full month, so I shall get some income.

It's not the sadness, but the hope. Hope will kill you in the end.

Sometimes one discovers that one is not painting things black so much as using black because that's what it looks like and that's what it is. £23 on shopping, £4 on heating the house for an hour plus making some food. It's as well the teaching fell through, I lack the funds to travel nor update my cosplay wardrobe enough to be a full teacher out of context. Bus driving remains, I suppose, we shall see. There is no luck but what luck one makes for one's self. I think it's safe to say I have made some pretty awful situations for myself this last year. Many worse than I realised at the time, the rest as bad as I feared. I'm one of the lucky ones though - I am not yet homeless. Just... I have lost my identity as a teacher, lost my family life, lost a partner, lost a daughter (who still lives but would prefer I did not), lost at least one job (maybe two soon) and any kind of security. Was it worth it?

Not sure I can answer the same way as Tennant. I heard this first in 1991 on Discography and remember how it made me feel back then, it was Christmas. The tape it was on would chew up and die on Boxing Day. A second was sought and died within hours. The third I dared not play for fear of losing it, so I recorded it on another tape - which died when played. Then nothing until I picked it up on CD some time in the early 2000s. This was the song it died on each and every time on tape. A hint perhaps?

Personal responsibility / Personal response insanity

Temple Scenes

If they ask me to leave, I shall obviously accede. About the only good point about today was that I haven't been suspended. I speak of work, I keep it vague. The truth will always out. As it should.

It's on YouTube: I think the image speaks for itself. 

Could be me, right? Right?

In the meantime I have sprayed out applications like confetti. I have been assessed online by some bus company and they have said I have passed (I think I made at least two errors though) and want to invite me to be assessed at their assessment centre. I need to ring them back, but they phoned whilst I was at work. That coud work, I suppose, I don't know. Some buses start at 0430, the latest they finish is 2330 and, of course, I can't catch a bus there or home. So... I'd need a car I guess. But, if it pays well enough and has regular hours, I could maybe manage that.

There are other irons in the fire but no responses as of yet.

Not my roof, but you get the idea.

Roofer came to next door, they called round to me, which got me out of bed on Sunday (I think I might be a bit depressed again). Good news is that they can fix what's afflicting my roof and shall do so. Whole thing will cost £245, rather than the £500 I put aside some time in February for this. That's good news, I think.

I then went to visit Abbi and Alex. I am glad that I did. I had a lovely time - because they are lovely people - and it reminded me that I have been able to make new friends. And it was also nice because of the ideas being bounced around, the things that I learn about (Bo Burnham in case you were wondering as a case in point) and just... I have said it before and I shall say it again: I haven't had friends I can just pop over to see since sometime in 2007 and it is really nice to have that ability again.

I have, lately, been struggling to get out of bed again. 

10 hour sleeps are not uncommon at the moment. I
don't think this is a good thing...

On Friday I went to see Citizens Advice, they were lovely. They think I have been a bit too nice regarding mortgage and maintenance, gave me a number or two to pursue. Also suggested that I try for a PIP - they reckon I'm more than eligible. So, I guess, bow to their greater experience. Numbers and PIP: tomorrow's jobs. On the evening I went to see the lights switch on with Middlest, it was fun, he enjoyed it. He stayed over, I took him to his play, then home for tea. Then took him back to Tilly's and saw the Eldest's play. At the end of it, she came out and saw me before immediately turning and walking away again with a friend, an anxious look on her face. Oh. Yeah. That.

Also, I did that thing. I warned Lynn what I would do. I did it. Sorry Lynn, you did not deserve me responding as I did. I judge myself harshly because I deserve to be judged harshly and people are too nice to do that to me. Bo Burnham again: put your heads down; praying for me.

I wish I knew what Him Upstairs saw in me: what it is that God thinks I can do on this earth. Every failure, every result of arrogance, avarice and assumption... it burns. It weighs me down. You'd think I'd be better at not doing it so much by now.

Much of what has lived in my head I have never written down. All my old stories, all my old ideas, I avoided writing down what motivated me and pulsed in my imagination. I came close in Reality/Shifts on this blog - the closest I ever came to writing it all out - but the Temple Scenes in my imagination when I was young went unwritten and unregarded. I dared not write them down, as that would give them a shroud of reality, an air of permanence. I have always been an historian, I know that historians and others cannot analyse that which is not recorded. But they were always there: the desire to be the woman who was tied down; the knowledge that transvestism (it was Latin, of course I latched onto that term) wasn't what made me excited (it just felt normal in my brain, even though I never dared do it). The stories and work at school - always female main characters and female first comparisons. I am grateful, now, that I can acknowledge all of that - even if obliquely - and have people with whom to discuss that sort of thing.

But at the same time, that judgement I made of myself - that guilt that gnawed - that I tried to justify and did so by creating the habits I am now bound and trapped by. Habits that have nothing to do with sex or sexuality, but are more prosaic and filthy and dipped in lies. Those habits? I am doomed by them anew.

And so, I pray the teaspoon prayer: Thank You, God, for providing people who care about me, who are my friends, who inspire me and who are just wonderful people. The people that read this blog. The people that comment on this blog. Abbi and Alex. Izzy and Lynn. Chams. My parents. Gary and Shiona. Tim and Lisa. Lily and their Imperator. Thank You for a place to live, food to eat, clothes to wear and the ability to go into the world, finally, as myself - that still ranks as one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given. Thank You for all the silly little things I enjoy and that I live in a time and place that I can do so and enjoy them - however fleetingly.

Sorry God, for all the things I do wrong. That I know I do wrong and the wrongs that I do not know. The known times I deliberately chose dishonesty and lies. The times I did that without knowing. I can't be specific. For responding to love and concern with an increasing whipping of myself. For trying to use people's concern as a weapon. For not responding with love when faced with love. For not recognising the people who care for me and deeply wish to help. For my arrogance. For my dishonesty. For my lies. For not using the gifts I have been given - for being the servant that buried the single talent lest they lose it out of fear, and who was punished in line with what they feared.

Please, if I cannot improve, if I cannot learn (and recent events suggest that I cannot), then let the end of the story be close at hand. Let it finish while people still care and regard me fondly. Or else please stop me from ruining that and spitting in the eye of those that seek to help. Help me recognise good intentions and respond to them accordingly. So that I can support those who attempt to support me by accepting their good wishes and advice. If I am worth more than the pay out of a life insurance, if I have yet work to do that will help my children, let me focus on it - force me to do so. I would sooner surrender free will than see it used by me to lessen the lives of my children, my family, my friends, Tilly, people I know at work and people I know through this blog.

Amen.

Storms on Mars

The jokes make themselves at this point. 

Apparently I can no longer comment on my blog, something has spooked Google on my 'computer network'. So who knows.

Don't know what the roofers did, but my leak is worse than it's ever been today. Literally almost raining in, I had to bail out. Leak through the kitchen door as well, that's new to me. Wood behind it is rotten though, so it's been going a while - probably years. Great. Damp patches on my wall? Bigger.

Worries about work. Have applied to new places. Do not believe I shall get another position. Seriously scared. Found a mistake last night when I got home that dates to Sunday or Monday. It is very serious. No idea what to do about it. Can't be honest; well, I can, but then that removes all doubt: I'm out on my ear.

I've spent so long with the nagging feeling that something isn't right, that I have a reason to feel guilty, that I have made habit the sorts of things that justify the feeling - and I manipulate how I reveal that to make people sympathise with me. Don't. I am an unreliable narrator. I lie, I cheat and I steal. All sin reeks equally in Heaven. No comparisons, no 'buts' - just my own wrestle with myself. Not beating myself up, but struggling to see the road, the step I'm on, let alone where I'm going. Who of you, by worrying, can add but a single hour to your life? Sure as anything I can lose those hours though. I've passed the bend in the path that looked like a dead end and now... I can't see the path - either in front or around me, only how I got here.

And I feel as though the road is running out. Here be dragons. Mum reckons I need a counsellor. I can't afford one and the NHS ain't providing one free any time soon. I was damn' lucky in 2011 to get one in six months. Equally, no idea what counselling would do to be honest. I've lost almost everything I held dear already, gained myself. And I am tired. So very very tired.

That's that, he's out! Not a bad innings. [...] and that is that and is forever.

Poor Reigning (one makes one's own luck)

Attempting to keep my lazier left eye open 
resulted in this rather crazed looking selfie 
late last night whilst talking online about 
cartoon soundtracks. Also I was reminded of 
Zia from Mysterious Cities of Gold and it turned 
out to be a core memory. Because of course it did. 

The collar arrived, which was nice, but the lock won't actually, y'know, lock. Also, next door had some roofers in to finally fix the problems, I'd agreed to pay half, but they finished work and now my leak is back to how it was this time last year - before any work was done. I even tried to get in contact with Five and heard nothing back. At work, though my contributions are recognised, my boss warned that if she goes down (a distinct possibility from what I'm gathering) she'll make sure she takes us all with her - a threat backed up by her immediate boss. So that's nice.

Tilly dropped a bombshell as well. According to legal advice she has sought, if she pays anything toward the mortgage over what I owe her for child maintenance then I am ultimately liable to pay her back from my equity - which could very well mean that when we eventually sell I owe her money. Also, repairs, the legal wording means that I can only stop them being done; if they are done, then I must pay off my half - it cannot be held over nor paid in instalments unless Tilly agrees. She's told me she won't agree. So I guess I be the bad guy and don't agree to pay for repairs then. I said that all sounded rather unfair, she told me that she would have got better terms if we'd gone to court - so suck it up. I said I had been trying to be nice, Tilly said I was raising my voice to her and that wasn't nice at all. My Mum offered to help but thought my mortgage was on a total of £20k (which is substantial) and not the £85k it actually is. So she can't help.

She may have been my favourite (the wrist guards played a
bit of a role there), but Mendoza was always my second. 
Apparently he was a very grey character - no black and white.

My top infants class teacher: "With [Joanna] there is only
black and white: there is no grey."

Make of that what you will.

Yesterday evening, Tilly was again in contact to let me know the the Eldest doesn't want to attend the light switching on ceremony if it means I am going to be there. This does not bode well for Christmas, but I have arranged that my parents send the children's presents to the matrimonial home directly.

Cliche alert: last night I slept with a cuddly bunny left behind in the house. I cuddled it and it felt nice. I may have to acquire myself a soft toy.

Luckily, I was able to hang out over at Abbi's twice, which has kept me mostly on an even keel throughout all of this. Won't lie though, I am struggling a bit.

Losing my cards has rather thrown out timings (along with having Smallest over today, who told me that he wants to come over alone when he is older and got upset when I said that Mummy would decide when he was old enough) so I have not managed to get my weekly shop done yet, another thing hanging over me as I prepare for my shift today - with uncertainty over whether we'll have enough people on shift. Joy.

Glory Glory What a Terr-

To record the joy and the slight fear (well, read "bricking it") of the last few days!

A blast from the past this: a selfie whilst walking 
that route home. You know the one, I took many 
photos this time last year. 

This one was from Tuesday evening. 

Okay then, Middlest enjoyed his time over with me watching videos and painting lizardmen (sorry, Seraphon) and was almost sad to leave - though exicted about his day ahead. I'll take that victory. Monday evening shift was longer than originally planned - I was in from 1pm - and I nearly missed it because I was round at Abbi's and getting excited about things (I can't quite remember the specifics right now, for reasons I shall come back to in a moment) - which was great! It brought home how much I miss the ability to get animated in company since I'm no longer in a classroom, but also how much I am blessed (genuinely) in having Abbi and Alex as friends - I am priviledged to have been let in to their lives, to their tribe, and it has sparked my idea sleets once more. Long ago I wrote about a prehistoric setting and society and now find myself wondering how a relationship such as theirs, with all the advantages it brings, would work in such a setting as I created (as well as realising how much of that setting stemmed from my own mental space at the time of writing it).

Work: busy, hard. I am getting sloppy, like, ASD-sloppy. So I miss things and can't take the information in. Non-regular hours, constant change, it's harder than I thought. I can do the routine stuff (ha) most of the time, but I'm starting to make sloppy errors and struggling generally. Not awfully, not badly, but I am spotting what is happening and aware of why. I worked 1pm-10pm then was in the following morning at 4.25am for a stock take. Oh, and I was visited by a Dark Knight team, which was a tad stressful and took about 45 minutes out of my time which was sorely needed, to be honest, and... yeah, hard to relax after that (even if I felt it went well enough, my boss semi-disagrees - may favourite part was the quibble about me having access to a program that I told the team I didn't have, because my boss may have arranged it a month ago but didn't tell me until that Tuesday morning. It went like this: "Oh, yeah, you do have access to that, I set it up a month ago but haven't got round to telling you. I wish you'd told them that last night." I mean, okay, but how?).

Here's another blast from the past: a selfie 
on my sofa of an evening.

No use of FaceApp filters here, though, just
me. I am, in fact supremely comfortable with
this photo.

But then Tuesday began. I had a bath, prepared to do battle with HMRC's hold system and settled down. Took the automated message fifteen minutes to tell me all the things I didn't need to phone about and then it rang once and was immediately answered by a fellow who told me the mix-up was down to my workplace not supplying information (but then told me they had) or my workplace using the wrong tax code (before then admitting that, no, that had been applied by them) but the wrong tax code, from HMRC, had triggered the immediate response and tax arrears. He said it was sorted now. And that was that. Oh. Okay then. So I went round to Abbi's about three hours earlier than planned. Got to watch some of Friendship is Witchcraft (yay!) but almost nodded off around 1pm - then had a second wind and had a lovely time all round. One of the reasons I forgot what I got so excited about on Monday!

Evening was round Tilly's to chat with my Eldest. She didn't say much, wanted me to say what I remembered, which I did, and then went to her room. The end. Okay. I'm not holding out much hope, if I'm honest. Tilly is reluctant to push too much or prod too much, it's a thing our Eldest has to work through and she's there just to keep an eye on it. Well, okay then.

Walking several miles in my 3" heel boots was fun, but not the best mode of transportation. My boots are waterproof (why I wore them) but yeah.

Today I had a shower, got ready, and then went to see Five - paying for the bus to get there (I should have walked) - and then... we went to a furnishings store and Five got all excited about decorating idea and lamps and things and asked my input - which got surprisingly easy for me to do. I have Opinions about this sort of thing and having someone genuinely ask my opinion was, honestly, quite lovely. Plus their enthusiasm is infectious so it was a lovely trip, if a little odd. Got to meet their son properly, and he apparently seemed quite taken with me (though asked why I had so much hair on my arms and why my voice wasn't as girly as I looked, he's five). Five ordered take away, which we ate with their ex-husband and son, then we watched creepy videos on YouTube. It was nice. But I was very nervous going (obviously). OH! Yes, Five presented me with a necklace they'd made for me (it is gorgrous!) and some earrings. I have never really thought much about getting my ears pierced, but I might have to because these are just... I mean... Yeah, suffice to say I may have to get my ears pierced in order to wear them.

I am actually reasonably proud of my eye-liner
work here, and the eye-shadow (grey on the
lids, pink to the eyebrows). Now the necklace
(also in the last shot) makes a bit more sense,
right?

I am actually thinking I may pay for my ears
being pierced. Like, that was never a consideration
before today.

Five, ex-husband and son brought me home for 8pm. And that's the other reason I can't recall what I was getting excited about on Monday, because my nervousness for today was bulging and then sort of hung around. I mean, I wore my collar and everything. Not the new one, still not delivered, but one of my old ones (and Five did smile a predatory smile on seeing it, complimenting me on my outfit whilst looking only at the collar when opening the door to their house). I also appear to have left my umbrella there. Whoops.

I have literally no idea what is happening with Five. Not complaining, just pointing out my utter lack of experience. It's why being friends with Abbi has been such a big thing - I have never not known what is going on there and I love it and it's such a nice thing (the friendship) and we bounce ideas all over the place. Five? I mean, predatory smile, then home furnishings, then chat about photographs and frames, take-out in a family setting ("Do you want to sleep over?" asked the son, "Not yet," says Five, "We haven't decorated the spare room yet."), then creepy YouTube videos. I... confess, it was all lovely and I enjoyed it, but I have no experience upon which to draw here.

Odd week ahead. 9am start at work tomorrow, until 10pm. Friday is 6am to 6pm. Saturday 2pm to 10pm. Sunday 6am to 3pm. Monday 2pm to 10pm. Usual days off are Tuesdays and Saturdays. Oh, I did have a gin last night, may explain some of the emotion of today. Maybe.