The Zombie Awakes

You can relax a bit now - I've had some sleep, and I've sorted out a routine for my painkillers. Yesterday was weird. Having never really dabbled in the world of pharmaceuticals I'm always affected very strongly by drugs, even over-the-counter ones. So being prescribed serious doses by the hospital was a bit of a shock to the system. I think I've worked it out now, and it looks like I took three days worth of pills in just over 14 hours. Oops. No wonder my hand stopped hurting...
I've read the leaflet that came with the bottle, and I've also read some info on the internet, and I've called the NHS 24-hour hotline, and the Drug And Alcohol Support Line just to be sure, and I should be ok. Assuming I don't slip into a drug induced coma and bleed to death internally, I'm going to take two pills every six hours now, and I've set myself alarms to make sure I'm on time.
I eventually fell asleep about 2.30 I think. I remember floating up the stairs to go for a pee, then I had a strange, colourful and vivid dream in which I was filming a pornographic version of War Of The Worlds, and then I woke up in bed, with a spinning head and a chronic thirst. Now I just feel exhausted and hungry, so I'm off to try and cook a chilli one-handed.

I think the film was called 'The Whore Of The Worlds' if you're interested.

RC 31-7-09

Monsoon?

It's absolutely pissing down. I'm sitting downstairs in that happy part of life that you occupy with the help of hospital-strength painkillers, and it's so dark it's like blogging in a cave. If you looked outside you'd think it was January.
I haven't slept since sometime yesterday morning. As I'm off work for a bit I thought I'd enjoy the chance to see some daylight, so I stayed up all night watching various old science programmes online. Now I've gone past the time of day at which I normally sleep after the nightshift so I've livened up again and feel a bit confused. I may have also over-done the Cocostamolbupren or whatever the hell my pills are because I'm supposed to take them four times a day (with meals, then just before bed) but obviously my eating and sleeping has gone a bit skewish so I can't remember when I've taken them or when I haven't. I didn't want to be under-dosed, so for the past 18hours or so I've taken two whenever I've eaten something, even if its just an apple or a flapjack. I've emptied the bottle to try and count how many are left, so I can work out how many I've taken, but I kept losing count at twelve, and then I couldn't remember how many were in the bottle to start with. I'm sure it probably says on the label somewhere but my eyes don't seem to want to focus on the writing, so I've given up.

Happy days

RC 30-7-09

Back off

I had a little accident at work last night. I was tired, bored and fantasising about one of the 19-year-old girls on the tobacco stand, and I failed to notice a few tins of beans that someone had knocked off the shelf. I stumbled forward with the grace of a pissed elephant, reaching out to grab the shelf to support myself, but the only part of my hand that connected was the end of my little finger. I don't know if you've ever tried to stop yourself falling over by using just your little finger but it tends not to work. What tends to happen, it turns out, is dislocation. As I stood up, desperately hoping no-one had seen anything, I brushed the dust off my trousers and realised that my finger was pointing in the wrong direction.

Dave my manager took me to A&E. I had X-rays and got prodded a few times, and was looked after very well by a fierce-looking but gentle short-haired nurse in her fifties, and her young trainee assistant who was Polish, 22, and very, very sexy. I decided to impress her with my bravery, so I screamed like a girl while being examined, and sobbed uncontrollably when they put in back in place.

So now I have a strapped hand, strong painkillers, and a bit of time off work. I was told to go back when the swelling went, and I have full movement in my fingers.
I'm thinking the end of November...

RC 28-7-09

Is it Christmas yet?

Summer continues to fly by in a weekly torrent of boredom. For any experts on english who are reading this - I'm well aware that my opening line was a load of nonsense, but it's been raining, so I don't care.

The only smile I can raise in my soul is by remembering that I passed my driving test, so I'm cheering myself up by looking at cars online. The thought of going out by myself, in my own car, fills me with dread to be honest, so I think the sooner I do it the better it'll be. So far I've looked at an Aston Martin Vantage, a Daimler sovereign and a Rolls Royce Corniche. So many cars, so little money. I've left my address for details to be sent on each of them. Another beauty of internet window shopping, my friends - they never see me, they never know I'm broke.

To finish, here's a few things that are really narking me off today (I'm in one of my occassional down periods so this may help to lift my mood)

I can't eat what I like any more, unless I'm prepared to be a fat, breathless behemoth again, which I'm not, so I can't.
None of my clothes fit because I've lost lots of weight.
Jamie Oliver is still working.
When I was fat and sweaty, and travelling by bus, it was hot. Since I bought a bike and passed my driving test, it's been dull and cool and raining.

RC 27-7-09

Mysterious girl, and a curious ode..

I think I'm in love. A posh bird with legs like a promise of heaven asked me for directions to the hair products. It was ten past three this morning, and my heart leapt the way a flea leaps from an enthusiastic vet's powder. I doubt I'll ever see her again, but even if I don't, it was worth it for our brief, beautiful encounter. Whoever you are - we shall always have the shampoo aisle..

As a little challenge to see myself through the work-based ennui, I thought I'd compose a poem using only words that start with the letter 'W'. It turned out to be much harder than I thought. This is what I have so far:
"Why would women want wonderful windows?
When what we waggle would whiten wooden wellies?
Willies?
Wow!"
It might sell to a few Edward Lear fans, but otherwise I think I'm chasing a lost cause. It killed a few hours at work though, which I suppose was the idea of the exercise. For the final boring stretch I returned to my old friend haiku:

Supermarket nights.
I fill the shelves with your goods,
while you are asleep.

I don't buy Persil.
It gets things very white, but..
I like things dirty.

If I were a God
I'd rid the world of evil.
(Jamie Oliver)

Why do old women,
who once wore perfume so sweet,
smell of sweat and piss?

Once upon a time
are the first words of this tale
which is now over.

RC 23-7-09

Moon

I was drunk and melancholy this morning. I'd been nursing a couple of strong ones in the pub while reading an Apollo 11 pull-out from Tuesday's paper, a fascinating retrospective on the 40th anniversary of the mission.
It's one of the few events before my birth that I really regret missing out on. History fascinates me, but I rarely find myself wishing I had been there for a first-hand experience. Sure, I've been around for some key moments anyway: despite being young, I can clearly recall the emotions and amazement arising from Nelson Mandela's walk to freedom, or from those over-due cracks appearing in the Berlin Wall. But the Armstrong and Aldrin adventure sadly occurred a full decade-plus before I burst onto the planet. Reading with fervour, and a warm glow, I wondered at the true global nature of the event, when all corners and kinds of humanity - including their Space Race arch-rivals the Russians - were willing them on to succeed. Will there ever be another time, I pondered, that our dying race can pull together and revel in the glory of a unifying goal achieved? A challenge overcome to benefit all mankind?
I very much doubt it. I think we're more likely to continue on in our selfish, self-absorbed, self-centred, centralised, introverted individual lifestyles while joining forces to rape and pillage the world of all its resources until we render it totally unliveable for us all.
Like I said early on - I was drunk and melancholy.

RC 22-7-09

a thought

I have just three words to say about the weather in Norfolk this week:

Utter wanky bollocks


RC 21-7-09

Watch out, world!

I passed my driving test today. It was, without question, the most nerve-wracking and sweat-inducing hour of my life. The examiner was a cross between Genghis Khan (for attitude) and Christian Slater (for looks) with all the friendly charm of Margaret Thatcher and a control of English equalled only by Rab C. Nesbitt. He also seemed to have rounded up every elderly, blind, drunk or disturbed driver in the city and positioned them on the route in front of me.
Having a stranger sit in judgement while you attempt to prove you can do something that has left you baffled for months is awful, especially when your knowledge of the Highway Code seems to wander away from you like a fox from a beagle. You can understand why I started the engine a bit shakily.
I'm so glad it's over. I can't remember the last time I was this relieved to have put something behind me. Even the weigh-in at work was a doddle compared to today.
Once I recover from the horror of the test itself, I'm sure I'll be joyous at the achievement, and looking forward to the road-based wonders that now lie before me. You know the sort of thing - suicidal cyclists who cut you up on the road and then sue you, egomaniacal teenage cops with speed guns who hide round country corners after closing time, and those ancient, near-blind pensioners who think the numbers on speed limit signs represent millimetres per decade.
Congratulations me, eh?

RC 16-7-09

The urge to splurge (and others)

I've been comfort shopping again. eBay is my new best friend. This time yesterday I had bids on 41 separate items, including a fridge/freezer, two pairs of running shoes and a speedboat. The thrill of the chase is as good as the actual catching, so I bid on things I have no hope of getting, guaranteeing myself a big buzz without a big bill.

I'm trying to arrange a date to visit Sophie in Edinburgh. I was hoping for a week in August, but the Festival is on then so everything is three times dearer than usual. I love the city, but I'm not going to end up bankrupt just to see some crappy Oz comedians and a drag act. So a trip up in September looks likely.

Ted and Beryl remain in Relationship Hell. It all came to a head with a blazing row in the garden on Monday. She said if he doesn't do as he's told, he'll be dead before next Christmas; he said if she doesn't lay off and leave him alone he'd be better off dead anyway. She's now having a couple of days with her sister in Essex to let the atmosphere cool. She left him several healthy meals in the fridge, but when I saw him last night he was outside with a roll-up waiting for a pizza to be delivered. When the cat's away, the mouse will play I guess, even when that mouse is a geriatic boozer with a heart condition.

RC 15-7-09

The diet - the truth

Good to be back in the world of daily blogging..
Forgive me for my absence last week, but I needed the time off to recover from the insanity of the last week of June. I was a rapidly dwindling ball of anxious obsessive dieting. My whole existence became encompassed in a determination to reach my target of three stones lost before the big weigh-in on July 1st. I wasn't eating, I was exercising until I collapsed, then I would wake up and go to work, where I wouldn't eat anything except toast.
Nightmare.
You try doing press-ups when you weigh 16 stone and haven't eaten for two days, then maybe we can talk.

I realised this week that I've never actually told you what my weight was to start with. Shame and embarrassment prevented me from revealing the truth I feel, but now it doesn't seem so important. At the final weigh-in last Wednesday, I topped the scales at 16 stone and 7 pounds - a drop of 3 stones 1 pound. The ideal weight for my height and build is 13 stone 6 apparently, so I'm still a bit over, but at least I can work without vomiting now, and people don't shit themselves with panic when I struggle onto a bus and the only spare seat is beside them.

After a week of indulgence I'm back eating sensibly, and hoping to shed another stone by Christmas. But this time I'm doing it gradually and manageably, not psychotically and dangerously. Don't eat crap, drink lots of water, cycle three times a week and walk every day, even if it's just to the bus stop. These are Rory's Golden Rules For A Smaller Arse, And A Healthier Heart. Feel free to steal them for yourselves...

RC 11-7-09

Bloggers, crawlers and bosses

I'm trying to convince Jared at work to write a blog. I'm never sure whether his daily musings at work are complete bullshit or not, but they're always entertaining and informative, and deserve to be shared with the masses. Until he decides to log on for himself (and learns to write coherently) rest assured I will be stealing the highlights for myself.. Last night's classic uttering occurred at 2.19am exactly. He and I were 'borrowed from usual duties' to go and clean one of the huge recycling bins outside. Someone had put some canteen rubbish in by mistake and the whole thing was running wild with maggots. Thousands and thousands of maggots. My skin still feels crawly now, after three long showers and a hot soak. It was truly the most horrible thing I have ever had to deal with in my short life, and Jared, despite his background of hideous employment, felt the same. "This is the most disgusting thing I've ever done" he said as he aimed the high-pressure hose into the corners, "worse even than licking out that fat bird after a three-hour stint on the dancefloor." I laughed so hard I fell to my knees, and the maggots took advantage and crawled into my wellies.
We both complained to the management. I argued that it was unhygienic to have stock replenishment operatives waist deep in insect larvae and was promptly sent home early to wash. Jared called them all wankers and now has another formal warning.
Legend.

RC 10-7-09

thoughts on being lighter

I've taken a slight break from the blog while I was celebrating the result of my Diet Challenge.. Not wanting to keep you in suspense, but let me just set the scene a little.. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I was going to die before I got on the scales. I was convinced that my nervous sweat was going to increase my weight and keep me above my target, but thank the Lord of whatever it is you believe in, my final weight loss was three stones and ONE POUND!!! And the crowd went wild...

I'm really going to try and keep the healthy eating going, but not to the extremes I was putting myself through in the past month or so. In fairness, I've had about 10,000 calories a day since the weigh-in (mostly in beer and pizza) but I think I deserved the reward, and I know I can get back on the diet horse when I want to. Ideally I'd like to hover around 15stones or so, but I'm not setting myself a target about when I'll get there.

It is strangely addictive losing weight. That feeling of hungry light-headedness is a buzz and a high by itself, and it becomes a real challenge to see how little you can actually survive on. It also gave me a real sense of control to be able to resist my body's desperate calling for food. It's not healthy, but I can see how people develop eating disorders.

RC 9-7-09