Extremely difficult.

Everything right now.

Everything previously occurring continues. Some increasing, some on the wane. Added some because I'm that smart.

Another short and exciting storm the other night, lighting flashes and sideways rain.

Cat sulking because I took him to the vet. At least he got to see mommy and his retarded brother.

O week. The usual excitement.

Start Zoloft tonight to help with evening brain racing. Not sure how I feel about that.

Apaches struggling, and losses this round will see them out of the finals.


Wait, what just happened?

Holy fuck.

Here I am.

It finally feels like summer. A downpour late afternoon, cooling down the days heat.

Clopping down the street in my boots. (I walk like a god in these boots too). Iguana skin.

This ancient and worn jacket creaking in my ear with every step.

A bit of this, a bit of that coursing through my system. A toast to this and to that to kick it all off.


Everything shifts.

Out of focus.

I'm back. ?

Xmas eve. Nowhere to go, nowhere to be, no porchlight on to pull me home.

Tom-Toms of Night Attack in my ears.

Nothing. No hope I could paint, shapes in the shadows.


"What if, right, what if you've already had the greatest moment of your life, and all you have to look forward to is sickness, and misery, and death?"

City out of control.

Here I come. Quiet now.

Health Update

So dad is still in ICU, they still don't know what is wrong with him - being a grumpy old socialist is not a diagnosis apparently.

Intermittent days of dialysis have drained him of 12 litres of fluid that had gathered in his hands, feet, belly and elsewhere. After a few days liquid started to appear in his lungs and they've drained about a litre and half from there. Today's nurse reckons they'll probably unhook him from stuff tomorrow and see if he can move about at all, which will be difficult after a week flat on his back.

He's eating, drinking, cracking wise, telling stories when he gets an audience, and cursing the government and management for their failings and incompetence. So business as usual.

He's thinking of writing a book and starting a political party, and he's really not on any painkillers, so i'm not sure where this has all come from.

Greek Paramedic 2 came to get me, when SuperMegs life got in her way - daughter's relationship drama this time. So she was unable to pick me up as planned and didn't make it until being able to come and retrieve me at the end of the day.

I'm exhausted.

I slept about four hours before i woke up and then my brain wouldn't shut the fuck up and let me go back to sleep. So, thanks brain, you useless piece of meat.

I eventually got out of bed after pmac left for work, and blundered around for a bit, before trying to get my shit together and start my day.

i got sidetracked and just realised i am already spinning this hard.

GP2 came and saved me from myself after breakfast, and i was really not presentable. I picked up that a wraith ICP shirt was not appropriate for a hospital ICU, so at least there was that. I was a bit confused. I'd overheard myself arguing with myself. I was overfull from a breakfast i've had a hundred times, but today looked like way too much food, but i ate it eventually.
I had a coffee (and it's possible everything else that happens for the next few hours is due to this).

No cannot do this now.

I'm procrastinating

I should write, a lot has gone on.
I appear to be procrastinating.

This is possibly the 8th or 9th attempt by the council over the last year to try and fix the water leaking onto the road at the bottom of the hill. This is, however, the first time I remember jackhammering at 10:30 at night.
it's not going to bother me, but I suspect some of the neighbours will not be happy.

There's been cricket. Cricket is back, summer is almost here.

Drugs are good. My batting appears to have improved, for the first time I can remember I'm actually excited to bat.

MBG has been some small drama. Drunk MBG is different. I'm not sure I'm a fan. She does not appear to be a fan of her either, and she doesn't want me to see that side of her again.

"Will you count me in?" All is forgiven, and I tumble again.

Completed HSR training. This shall be amusing.

G has cancer. Fuck cancer.

Lions won their first game. Beating the Cranbrook old boys by 5 runs, coincidentally the same five run overthrow that The Lawyer and I ran.

My lightning fast pace with the ball, caused a shard of the first drop's bat to skitter down the pitch towards me. While he looked in surprise at his bat, I picked up the shard, said "This is mine now," and turned and walked back to my mark.

He left the rest of the bat behind when they left following their defeat which I have now claimed as "The Spoils of War." Score one for the proletariat! We are the 99%! (not to be confused with the 100%, or the 3%ers of which I was briefly part of on Facebook)

I saw The Angels with with evilmegsy. They played 'Dark Room' in full. I never thought I would hear eight of those ten songs ever played live. It was great. Gleeson wasn't Doc, but it was still great.

I'm taking MBG to Carly Rae Jepsen, because, something. I think. Unless she's decided she's out, and hasn't made that clear. I did promise to myself that I would not overthink and doubt her again, but the drugs are wearing off, and sensible advice suggests that I should stop this whole thing.

Sensible advice! What do they know? This is the 21st century! We don't listen to sensible advice. fake news! global science conspiracy! Bilderberg group! rockafellere! deep state! But her emails! um stuff.

I have watched a bit of Letterkenny. it's funny. it's sometimes painful but it's funny.

I have been doing the right thing and being the positive role model that a cricket president should be for some of the players who need it most. I think it is important.

I was so sore after a couple of beers on Sunday when I came home that I could barely walk up the stairs. 55 overs in the field on Saturday plus a 30-minute at bat, then 35 overs on Sunday and another short bat. I bowled about 15 overs across the weekend.

Being physically tired has helped correct my sleep patterns somewhat. Was not as sore as I expected on Monday, nor Tuesday. Left knee felt a bit sore after training, so we'll try to keep an eye on that.

There's too much work at work, and like an idiot I take on more and more responsibility.

I have had to cut my nails shorter than they have been in years for guitar playing, however this has triggered me picking at them which is a habit that I worked to drop as a teenager.

Medication? MBG? Another anxiety? We shall see.

To the professionals!


Won even grade grand final - Cat and BS opened the batting and both retired, chasing 190 after opposition failed to leave their special permit player off after retiring at 40. For the second time against us the he scored 90+

Odd grade semi today. I actually did stuff!

(Sent to Alks as msg)
Took two catches behind the stumps, and threw down middle after chasing a leg side wide to stump their "wall".
Batted at eight, chasing 150+
Swished dashingly outside off stump without making contact for about 15 deliveries, sending the Apaches into a bit of a panic, prompting John Wright at square leg to suggest it was time to "hit out or get out" to bring Cat back in.
Then I wound up their shires bowler over his next three overs, who by then thought I was a dead set chump, and couldn't believe he couldn't castle me.
Tried bouncing me.
Predictable result.
Swish. Smile.
"Come-on-then" head nod.
He got a warning from the umpire about the next bouncer. "One per batsman, per over".
Was not expecting next ball to be also short.. Ugly fend. Wore it on glove.
Next over. Short. Dispatched behind square.
I knew another was coming.
Couple of balls later, short and at my head. I was looking for it.
Hooked and launched it up and into the Robertson Rd trees.
Apaches pop!
I wave bat at bowler.
Turns and does not look at me.
Made their wicketkeeper who came on to bowl leggies look good for three balls, before sending his fourth delivery booming over the long mid on boundary and finishing the game with a six. Two overs and two balls remaining.

Webko would have loved it. Especially the "classic ALPHA" with the Granny Weatherwax Headology.

Good times. These meds are even helping my cricket!

(no subject)

Strange thoughts. Brave thoughts. Born from lack of sleep, physical fatigue, and being completely mixed up.
Fatalistic, perhaps. Que sera, sera.

Just wait, stay quiet. This is rarely good advice.

Yay an effective day behind the stumps no byes, one simple catch.