Back at work and, as if on cue, Monday delivered its usual shenanigans. First crisis: the day-trip clipboard to Eden Camp vanished into thin air. I immediately went full detective mode, cos the amount of things that go walkies in this community centre is unreal Poor Nanna Bambi lost the will to live by 11am, to be fair, George and Toby weren’t exactly helping: they’d already eaten her shop out of sweets, and were now in fits of giggles, bouncing on her like a pair of over-caffeinated kangaroos on a bouncy castle while applying face filters on their mum’s phone. Nothing says “start of the week” quite like two wild kids morphing into googly-eyed potatoes, while we have missing stationery.

My brain decided to clock in late; it didn’t start working until about 11:30am, which is a problem when Crafty Club started at 9:30. Still, the community had a good morning of crafting, eating (always eating), and a surprise visit from Matthew. Not because he missed us; no, he’d caught wind there was food.

After work, it was time for the horror show: Matthew’s PIP application. I swear they make those forms 100 pages long to test your patience, hoping that you will give in and not claim it. Just as I finished, I had to dash to the doctors for a printout of his health record, because nothing screams “trust me, I’m telling the truth” like a printout of your health record; then they will call the doctor for confirmation anyway?! On a positive note, we got out of paying the £50 charge for a doctor’s letter; get in!

After that we headed to B&M, supposedly for a toilet brush. Classic mistake. Came out with new Daz fragrance beads and (don’t judge me) doggy perfume. Did I get the bog brush? Did I fuck! Matthew has recently been taking herbal laxatives because Mighty Morphine Power Stranger bungs you right up. So tomorrow morning I will need to enter the bathroom with a gas mask and wearing a biohazard suit…And no fucking bog brush!!!

After my useless visit to B&M, which has now had me praying for the toilet in the morning, I went to Lidl for the weekly walk of indecision up and down the aisles. Cancer changes your shopping habits in ways you’d never expect. Matthew’s eating less now than when he was on the fat jab, so meal planning is a nightmare: too much and it goes to waste, too little and he’s hungry again in two hours. I buy ready-made salads for myself, because cooking a meal for one in this economy is just a joke. So, I’m surviving on a culinary rotation of Pot Noodles, mini quiches, and bite-sized Quorn chicken pieces. Matthew is happy as a pig in shit because he now has more ready-to-eat chicken kebabs he can dip in barbecue sauce, and he’s now learned that Lidl stocks Pot of Joy and they are priced at only £1.99 each. So you can guess where he is going tomorrow, that is, after he’s stopped shitting, at least.

Overall Monday: I survived, just about. Let’s see what antics Tuesday can bring.

Hopefully, I can get to Thursday afternoon like a gentle breeze on a summer’s day….. Then again, who the fuck am I kidding? Nowt goes to plan in my world, ever,

I just wish my toilet luck; it fucking needs it.

Chow For Now!

Kate x