| Return of the stranger |
[18 Jul 2006|12:51pm] |
Hello all.
By my count it's nearly four years since I last posted. A little has changed, so I'm updating while I get a chance.
1. Am married. To a nice welsh man.
2. Am still a doctor. But doing research at present, then on to a Public Health job in September (that's being "a suit", essentially).
3. Have a dog. This is a good thing.
4. Am moving to Engerland. Stoke on Trent to be specific. Currently in house limbo having moved out of mine but waiting for the English property system to catch up with the Scottish and let me have a new house. Hopefully only 2 weeks to wiat, but we'll see.
That's pretty much it, really.
Keep smiling, y'all.
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| LOL |
[15 Oct 2002|10:26pm] |
Sorry
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| Bah |
[15 Oct 2002|09:53pm] |
Roughly 40 emails today, not one of them wasn't junk mail.
Edgy and kind of miserable. That'll be night shift then.
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| Ha ha ha You are so lucky |
[14 Oct 2002|10:25pm] |
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Apologies for the last entry. You should thank your lucky stars that I got summoned for coffee mid-way through and got distracted from a self-pitying rant.
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| Holidays good, night shift bad |
[14 Oct 2002|09:57pm] |
Apologies. Time warp. My life goes eat sleep work eat sleep work eat sleep work. It's on a much shorter cycle than usual, too. Anyway, here we are in night 4 of 6 night shifts. You know what? I might even make it.
So far I haven't once broken into floods of tears at the mere suggestion of going to work. And only once (maybe twice) have random adverts make my eyes tingle in a familiar manner.
And here's a funny thing. Just before coming onto nights I was nearly writing the letter I've managed not to write for 9 months. The I miss you letter. Because I still miss him. Sorry. Actually, what Imiss is feeling special, feeling sexy, feeling needed.
Anyone got any attractive, single, appreciative friends they feel like sending my way?
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| Happy days |
[27 Sep 2002|06:28pm] |
OKay, so I'm on holiday now, which is fab. I can't describe the feeling of elation which keeps kind of sweeping over me. Just nice to not be where people have you at their beck and call ALL the time. I hate pagers. I hate the bleeping noise which tells me in a few seconds someone is going to very pleasantly make a completely unreasonable request.
Anyway, I'm not there now.
Broadband is go. We like.
I'm going away on Sunday for a week - relaxation, lots of books, mid-Atlantic islands to explore. 'Twill be lovely. No computer, which will be molto relaxing.
Where was I? Ah, events of the week. WEll, the boy didn't phone (as far as I know, there was a mystery number on the phone on Tuesday, but boys don't phone at 3.30pm, do they?). ANyway, I got a bit worked up about it, especially when I was pretty sure I saw him last night at a local venue (late night, hangover at work, last day before a holiday - not a good combination). It was too busy to get over to talk to him, and I had to admit that I wasn't that sure it was him (I do faces in a very general kind of way, remember I had my eyes closed a lot of the time I was paying him attention. And I was drunk, and it was days ago). Left me feeling kind of agitated though, and annoyed in a sort of "I'm not a minger, why wouldn't he ring if he asked for my number?" kind of way. Have been on edge all day, not helped by my inhalers (paint stripping and smokey clubs - my lungs are wrecked) and about 4 coffees and 2 cans of coke. Then at lunch I saw my friend who introduced me and the boy, so eventually I talked to him and rapidly determined he knew nothing of the events after he left us alone on Friday.
Normally, I would have the self-control to leave it at that. (Does anyone doubt this?) But it's been an odd week, I was feeling rotten, and David, my friend, was perculiarly vulnerable and uncharacteristically open today - just split up with girlfriend and apparently relieved by it all, but subdued and thus not his normal brash self. So in the end I bit the bullet, told him what had happened (he was very pleased), and that the boy hadn't called. Serious face "I'll talk to him", sombre nod. Then massive grin of mischief making. What have I done?
Still I'm away for a week, then off again 24 hours later for another short break, then on nightshift. I could manage to play this cool.
Sorry, inane prattle, and not even interesting if you don't know anyone involved. You'll be pleased ot know the rest of my colleagues that I talk to are very pleased with me for finally providing some gossip, though.
Catch up with you in a week or so...
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| Not cut out for this |
[23 Sep 2002|10:43am] |
1. Being single. i quite like it really. But finally managing to get kissed for the first time in 8 months was nice. (This is not the official version, if HE asks, BTW). However, wondering if he's going to phone, even though at first I didn't really care, is not fun. Particularly when the phone is broken.
We talked for a long time and he seemed quite nice, if slightly different from my usual style. Not that different though - day job aside he drums for a band (played with Mouse Eat Mouse once, have not the slightest recollection of their name). But also a Partick Thistle season ticket holder (or has a very dry sense of humour).
Anyway, he was probably scared off by my hugely messy and unattractive flat, if not before.
2. Cats. Now, I may have mentioned I'm not a cat person. I have one, sure, but it's a dog substitute. And he's pretty cool and placid. Those of you who are following my domestic situation may have gathered that along with my new flatmate came a new cat. And I've really tried, but while flatmate has been away, Weevil has conducted a campaign of terror against me.
This culminated last night in a coup de grace before his owner returned today and he had to be all sane again.
Fed cats. Shut bedroom door, went to bed.
1am. Loud cracking noise. Door opens. Cat runs un and begins wailing. My cat is standing in the hall looking bemused. I shoo cat from room, shut door, go back to bed. I mutter "I have to get up in 6 hours you little bastard and I have a 13 hour shift to do." BIG mistake.
5.45am Loud cracking noise. Same cat runs in and wails and wails and wails. I eventually get up and feed the cats as this normally soothes even the worst of moods.
5.50am Wailing resumes.
5.55am I get up, and shut both cats in the kitchen, thus at the other end of the hall from my room. I put a pillow over my ears.
6.00am Scrabbling noise comes from kitchen.
6.10am Cat begins wailing in hall again.
6.20am Door open once more. My cat (the nice one, the one we like, remember), comes in and snuggles next to me, and goes back to sleep. Weevil does not. Guess whether he keeps on wailing?
6.30am Brief respite
6.31am Wailing recommences. Cat climbs onto my dressing table and begins systematically knowcking one item at a time off the table.
6.40 am Table clear, the cat heads for my bedside table. Begins with a glass of water, three books and 2 pens. Then begins scrabbling at a pile of postcards.
6.45am My alarm goes off.
Cat stops wailing.
Morna, if you read this, I suggest that you never leave me with your cat alone again - only one of us will survive.
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[20 Sep 2002|12:36pm] |
Car insurance - bah. Filling in the same form over and over to get quotes.
TV aerials - bah. How can people charge such varying amounts for the same job?
Showers - bah. Why can someone not come round and just fix the bloody thing?
Weekends - bah. Why only two days?
Backache - huh. Why being useful and stripping your own paint should cause so much pain (oh, and a burn on my hand), is beyond me. And while we're on the subjects - what made me think that spending literally months stripping paint was a good idea?
And I just signed my own surname wrong on a form. I think I've lost it.
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[14 Sep 2002|04:24pm] |
So I'm lying there in bed last night - too early for a civilised person, but just right for those of us who never seem to leave the hospital - and I'm listening to the car alarm that WON'T STOP down the road, and the very loud conversations of my neighbours across the grass who were debating the source of the goddawful noise.
And i got back to thinking.
I remembered countless hours of pillowtalk where me and the boy discussed endlessly how we got here and what we thought when we first got together. I always thought of it in some absract way as being like negotiating our definitive history. So now he's gone (has been gone for ages), and I'm still doing the history thing. Still running over old events again and again trying to make them mean something. Everything. And trying to drag a hope or optimism that is clearly fake from them because it would be nice to feel like I was loved, even if now I am not.
And so on.
But then morning came (after the alarm stopped) and I got out of bed like an automaton, and I drag myself around htis hospital with a less than good grace, but I drag myself, and I get on with it. And very little of my sadness comes from him, though much of it comes from sleeping alone. And I passed the map of where I am , and on it is where he is, and where we went together - places special to him. And it's funny that being at work should be painful, when he's never been here. When I should be clinical and cool. But I'm tired and oh so hot and so my mind is not where it should be.
And don't read "Carnevale", it's just too accurate a study in unrequited love at times.
Arse.
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| I want: |
[13 Sep 2002|12:49pm] |
1. Broadband internet. Now. And time to use it.
2. My living room to miraculously strip itself of hideous paint.
3. My cats to get on better.
4. Not to work this weekend.
5. To have a Tuesday evening off so I can go back to the choir I found.
6. The people close to me to get what they want.
7. A little more conversation and a little more action.
Be good to each other.
x
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[13 Sep 2002|11:05am] |
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And so another weekend of hell on earth begins...
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| At work, so I'll be quick |
[02 Sep 2002|09:50am] |
Weekend was less traumatic than I feared. At least in the mental sense - my parents were both well behaved and my Dad was markedly less annoying than on previous occasions. A bit surreal having my Dad do jobs in my mother's house - she will never see his new place I imagine. Actually, I have no intention of going there myself, either.
Physically, however, the work was hard. I now have a sore back and a sprained left hip. Pity me as I traipse the grimy wards, hobbling along.
Pity me anyway, I'm on call again.
Still, I have a new light in my lounge, a shiny worktop, a washing maching that doesn't drip, and boxes and boxes full of stuff I never thought I'd see again. Much of which are children's books my sister couldn't bear to throw away. In fact, almost everything is due to my sister's inability to give up anything.
In it all i found an enormous batch of old letters. All from before I left for university, mostly from age 14-16. I couldn't read many of them, needed to get to bed, and anyway there were mountains of them. But what struck me about them was how young and bright everything is. I had incredibly miserable days, I don't deny, but the world was intrinsically fair and good. I would one day find someone who loved me and accepted me and we would be together and everything would be All Right in the End.
People wouldn't say they love you then change their minds. They wouldn't say they want to be there for you then not be.
I kind of miss my pre-cynicism self.
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[30 Aug 2002|12:32pm] |
Was awful sick yesterday. Am much better today. Thanks to my top nurse.
My Dad comes down tonight to deliver furniture to me and my Mum. I find myself dreading another weekend with him, even though it's only the 4th this year. He's just one of those people who I irrationally dislike everything they say, and even when it's completely reasonable I have this overwhelming irritation about it all. Oh, and I'm tired, so I'll be my usual stroppy cow.
Still, at least I won't be at work.
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| Trading card |
[25 Aug 2002|04:23pm] |
LiveJournal
Trading Cards
Free Account Edition
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![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=91.6) notwaving
User Number: 508020
Date Created:27/7/2002
Number of Posts: 288
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| Notwaving is a small puddle of goo found under a desk, currently somewhere in coastal Scotland. Approach with care - the goo can cause severe allergic reactions. |
| Strengths: Elasticity.
Clenliness.
Obsessions with paint stripping. |
| Weaknesses: Not hoovering.
Obsessions with paint stripping.
Collecting pets.
Fooooood. |
| Special Skills: Paint stripping
Loving |
| Weapons: Heat gun
Electo shock bolts
Ice storm blast (taught them by a 5-year old super hero)
Sunny disposition |
| Best things: Mini discs
Days off
Brown paprer packages tied up with string
Nestum |
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Make your own LiveJournal Trading Card!
Brought to you by crossfire
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[25 Aug 2002|12:13pm] |
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Anyone got any ideas for what I can wear to my best friend's wedding? She's wearing a black PVC corset, although apparently she's not going Goth.
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| Kill me now |
[25 Aug 2002|12:05pm] |
I know, I know. Junior doctors' hours have been hugely improved by the efforts of the BMA, and on top of that it's been really, hugely quiet. But that doesn't stop me feeling sorry for myself about working 4 thirteen hour shifts in 5 days. A 12 day stint with early starts every day really wears you down.
Mon 8-4
Tue 8-4
Wed 8-12
Thur 8-4
Fri 8-9pm
Sat 8-9pm
Sun 8-9pm
Mon 8-4
Tue 8-9pm
Wed 8-4
Thus 8-12
Fri 8-4
Sat SLEEEEEEEP
I know, too that half days are a terrific innovation designed to keep us sane, but they don't.
And to make things worse this is my second stint like this this month. I need sleep and food and not to be running around putting needles in people, not to be getting lip from laboratory technicians (do they think I want to sent them work to do? It implies I have work to do, too.), not to be tending to the sick when I'm finding it hard to keep my eyes open. I need not to be dehydrated from being in the warmest horrible little bedroom in the world and the hottest wards. I need patients not to harumph when it takes me a while to do things. I need the porters not to be on strike and ask "is it an emergency?" before doing anything.
Sorry, I'm whinging and it's not attractive. I'm tired and i can't help but feel that if I was busy I would be at once happier and more tired. I need a wee holiday but it's a month to go.
But hey, it's payday on Thursday...
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| To whom it may concern |
[22 Aug 2002|02:00pm] |
You know who you are.
A new washing machine will be delivered to the flat on Tuesday morning between 9am and 1pm. Which will be nice.
All I need to do now is find someone to replace the shower...
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| Pet Hate |
[22 Aug 2002|12:06pm] |
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Mine is people smoking in toilets. Go outside, get wet, and have everyone stare at your. Don't make me smell awful and have to pee in smoke.
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