I'm all for that "loving sleeping in fresh sheets" thing but as a person with disabilities:
A - it's a bloody nightmare actually changing them and being stood up actually accidentally inside the duvet cover with the duvet isn't particularly helpful when you're on the highest dose of medication for anxiety!!!!
B - because I sleep upright using a prop and 4 very specific pillows, all different from the other, first I need to make sure I get them back in the right order and THEN you only finally find yourself really getting comfy and moulding into the pouffed up pillows roundabout the time it takes to need to change the sheets again!
Still, if changing sheets is challenging (and now I'm hurting all over and my bed isn't comfy cos it's all pouffed up!), taking off screwed in stair gates is enough to virtually kill me. I mean it did. I fell over (which sounds funny and quite probably looked hysterical, and if it was my friend I'd be absolutely pissing myself laughing), but being physically and chronic-painfully challenged really REALLY hurt, much less the fact I nearly stabbed myself with the screwdriver when I fell. When I finally dragged and heaved my huge sorry backside back up again, the problem was that that there was "hidden screw syndrome". This means there's a screw, but it's hidden, and when you put it in you thought "I must remember how that hidden screw thingy works for when I take it off, I'll keep the instructions safe!". Instructions went in the bin along with most of my memories after the coma! Yes I had a coma. So what? It's the latest thing I've heard, great for the skin, all that ventilated oxygen keeping your lungs working and stuff....
Anyhow, the gate was hanging on by one hidden screw. One. Hidden. Bastard. Screw. So I attempted with my feeble body strength to just yank the gate off, whilst screaming - it was much like hearing a woman in labour actually, yanking at it and screeching between gritted teeth "will you just get out you little bastard!!!!" (ok I didn't say it in labour - we were all thinking it though!!)
In my amazing strength, I managed to yank it off the wall, so hard (haha) that there was no damage to the wall or to the fittings! So I put it up for sale! And now I know how to word adverts to sell things really quickly! Just be really honest! I did however only sell it for £5, and the sweat and tears put into it...the kids learned some new words....and wondered why mummy was trying to kill the gate (it was like I was attempting a prison escape).
And why did I do this? Why decide to do this after the hell of changing my sheets?
Because it has been screwed into my daughters bedroom door frame for 3 years. For all 3 years it has failed to keep her inside it. At first she climbed it like a little monkey climbing a tree. And later she just learnt to open it. She's long outgrown it but it's one of those jobs you never get round to doing.
But for the past 3 bloody years, every single evening, all I hear downstairs is the incessant "clank. Clank" of Satan banging it against the wall. 3 years of being slowly driven insane. So I did it through anger!!!! It gave me courage and strength!
And now I really hurt all over and my bed smells nice but isn't comfy and my bum hurts cos I fell over backwards and this none too light body weight fully landed on the arse area.
As a lesson to us all, stair gates are evil. Cursed. You can bring them home any time you like, but they will never leave....
Sorry, went all Hotel California there. The scariest song in existence. Apart from Zombie where the lead singer of the Cranberries does a very good impression of a seagull. Soz. Love the Cranberries, but she DOES sound like a seagull!
I shall leave you with a picture of my ad should you ever wish to get rid of a piece of cursed furniture - I'd hardly finished writing it when it was sold! I pray the dark side inside Satan was actually in her cursed stair gate and when it leaves I can rename her AngelCakes! 😊
When the only food left in the cupboard because Mummy's been too busy making the bills match the bank balance, has fresh chillies in it, cut into minuscule pieces and you eat it anyway......when you're allergic to bloody chillies - THAT!!
Itchy, stingy, itchy, stingy......that'll be a nightcap of two piriton then....😣
Is it just me, hey it probably is, but do you find yourself still surprised every time you have an allergic reaction to something even though you've always been allergic to it?
Every spring I spend a month in confusion with a 4 week cold, which of course turns out to be hayfever, which I've been suffering from since I was 14. And that was a LONG time ago! A very long long time.....oh god, I think I might cry! I'm OLD!! 😭
Oh, nope, false alarm, allergy eyes!
My favourite allergy (sarcasm) is the one to those anti sickness pills you tuck down the side of your mouth to dissolve. I have daily anti sickness meds, but when I've got a "vomit-on", being the only person able to look after the 3 kids, 5 cats and 1 stupid dog (who eats Lego. I don't know how many calories are in Lego but I've put him on a Lego diet - i.e. put them in a different room - he's lost shit loads of weight! True fact!), and being phobic of vomiting as I've been known to pass out when vomiting and have choked on my own vomit & nearly karked it, had concussion, black eyes etc, I will do ANYTHING to not vomit. So I resort to these little dissolving pills because they carry on working even when you're actually spewing, but I have an immediate allergic reaction to them. Last time I took them I finally fell asleep with one tucked up against my gum and woke up with a rectangle mouth. I mean, my lips were SO swollen, they were no longer the cute little rosebud lips I had (hahaha yeah right.....), but we're actually so swollen they were rectangular and I couldn't open my mouth!
At least it only lasts about a week now, when it first happened my lips all split open like sausages (I'm not even exaggerating here!) and had that see-through plasma type stuff (er, plasma?) oozing out of them. I was abroad. So off we went to a Spanish hospital where I was expecting my then (now ex) father in law to waffle on in perfect Spanish to the A&E doctor, you know, what with them living there and everything, but instead managed to only get across pointing at my lips and saying "normal poco, now grande". Which to be fair I could've done but if I'd gone in I'd probably have come out minus a kidney or something. So I had to have a jab, and in Spain they clearly hate people because they don't jab them nice and gently in the arm, oh no!! They manhandle you until you're lying facedown on the medi-bed thinking "what the fuck has this got to do with my li......OW! Holy bollocking hell", because they just jab you in the arse. No warning, no "little scratch", no word of anything, they just stab and press. No gentle inserting of needles, when I mean stab I mean with the ferocity of someone stabbing the blonde girl to death in a horror film!
Took 4 weeks for my lips to return to normal and for the massive reaction to the injected drugs which kindly came up in vicious spotty lumps all over my face so, to go. I refused to go out looking like that and the sun made it hurt so I stayed inside til they were gone. Which was 4 weeks. Which considering it was a 4 week holiday was a bit of a bummer! Scuse the pun! 😂Ah god I'm shite at jokes!
On that note, my eyes are now streaming and my lips are tingling so I'm gonna go take every antihistamine concoction that doesn't cause death or major organ damage and hope I don't wake to rectangular lips tomorrow! Because I have to leave the house! I could just slick some gloss on and go for the trout pout but unfortunately my lip skin (lip skin? Is it called that?!) cracks and means nothing can touch them. I have to drink coffee through a straw without my lips coming into contact with the heat through the straw. It's really difficult and the only time I achieve a skeletal look.
Ooh I just remembered, I need to go and order 80 toilet rolls! Not sure how that linked there apart from squashy, pillow like lips/loo rolls? Altho my lips aren't quilted and don't have puppies on them. Anyhow, must dash! Goodnight (day) my fellow Slummies!
You know like, now we're all grown up and stuff, we get ADULT acne (they don't tell you about THAT teenagers!!!)...and we all know what we are supposed to do - keep it clean, don't touch it, gently exfoliate, do not squeeze, use a "gentle" spot gel blah blah blah?!
But then you get one of these THINGS slowly building up on the side of your nose. It gets achy and throbs more throughout the day and you expect to go to the bathroom, pop it out (*retch* - sorry) and that'll be that? But then you get to the mirror & there's a great big hard lump under your skin with the teeniest ever little whitehead at the peak?
You know you're supposed to leave it. But you think (again...) that if you just squeeze hard enough, the whole lot will come out and in 2 days it'll be fine. Wrong! That never ever happens. Ever. So I squeezed and this pathetic bit of whitehead came off. But the lump underneath was so big and so hard that there's no way it's coming out of a mere pore, this is scalpel territory! However, especially being the clumsy person I am, and not medically trained, even I wouldn't be stupid enough to take a scalpel to my face (it did cross my mind though). So I went through all my spot treatments and realised none of them really work. Not really. But I figured it just lacked that oomph and realised that what I needed to do was put EVERY SINGLE spot treatment on that I own! All of them! I had the alcohol ones first (fastest drying), then the serum ones, the ones that sting like things that sting, and all smothered by the gentle hydrating yet peeling effect one. On top of all the chemical peel ones of course.
So now one of two things is going to happen in the morning (er in a couple of hours). Ok, it's only a couple of hours away so make that 3 things!
1 - it will stay exactly the same and spend a week being gross before it starts to scab and slowly fade to a scar.
2 - my spot with be Bazooka'd by all the treatments and actually GO like it says on all of the packets and tubes.
3 - a large chunk of my skin is going to peel and fall off, drawing attention by the massive flaps of peeling skin left behind, which I will pull off too far and make myself bleed. And underneath this horrendous chaos, Mount Vesuvius will still be there, growing by the minute, ready to blow (through the layers of clotting plasma and flaps of skin that is) and it will take at least 2 weeks for it to die down.
From experience, it's likely to be number 3.
Why??? Why do I do it??!! Does anyone have a spare balaclava at all???
This is because I didn't have teenage acne isn't it? It's some kind of karma! I also have 2 white heads on my eyelids so have been having lots of eye watering moments trying to get rid of those - I honestly think those and the ones up your nose are worse than labour. Honestly. Id rather go through labour (being 10 years younger and with some really good drugs!) than these evil spots.
Being a grown up is a bit pants actually! I think I'd rather be a teenager! At least back then we had hope...... 😣
P.s I also learned, don't try to stab an extra big hole in your face to get rid of your spot with a big pin. Doesn't work, lots of blood and a pin being stuck in your face. Wasn't one of my better plans.....