When Flu takes away my mojo.
I love to write and get really pissed off when I lose my train of thought. Some days the words just flow, it is easy peasy, I hardly have to think at all and before too long there is a 600 word piece waiting to be submitted to SAS.
But, this past week, I cannot for the life of me put any thoughts to paper. Even writing this seems like a tremendous task.
Maybe it is because I have had a killer flu for a month. I have not had flu for 10 years and this one sure makes up for those years that have been flu free.
I am really annoyed. I am so tired and feel completely useless at times. Cough cough cough, all day and night. Aches and pains all over. I feel like I have been tramped on by a thousand stampeding buffalo.To make matters even worse, I developed a severe case of conjunctivitis as well. OH heaven help me, swollen , mucky eyes. Itchy sore red eyes. A friend asked why I was wearing sunnies inside. I took them off and showed her my eyes, Ye Gods she exclaimed, you look like something out of a horror movie.
Thanks for nothing friend!
Where are my thoughts? They seem to have been cemented into my poor aching head, never to be released again. Oh dear, what a terrible thought. The writing I do is what keeps me amused , it allows me to vent my frustrations, live my dreams , it is better and cheaper than going to a shrink. People give opinions on my articles, it makes me feel good, sometimes makes me feel bad, It helps me make decisions. I feel like I am able to conquer the world. Except for this flu..It has robbed me of my mind.
Please go away flu and leave me alone. Let me get back to being me. Give me back my mojo. Please, please, please.
Doctors who think elderly patients are either deaf dumb, stupid or all three.
I have on many occasions accompanied elderly people to visit the Doctor.
Almost every time , the Doctor has addressed me, and not the actual patient.
Just because someone is old, does not mean that they cannot understand what a person is saying.
Take for example Mrs A. I accompany her to the Doctor once every six months. Mrs A is 89 years old and more in touch with current affairs than I ever will be. She is a wonderful old lady , one that I can have a discussion with on any topic. She is smart, she is not deaf, she can speak very clearly, her only problem is that she is old and needs blood pressure medication.
Every single visit is the same. The Doctor looks straight at me and asks “ how are you today, what can I do for you”. I look straight back and tell him I am fine , it is not me who has come to see him , it is Mrs A.
Still looking directly at me, ignoring poor Mrs A, he asks me what he can do for her.
I give him another steely look and tell him to ask Mrs A as she is the patient.
He seems reluctant to look at Mrs A and ask her, maybe he has a phobia about old women, maybe he just does not see her, although he should, as she is larger than I ,and not easy to miss.
The Doctor finally looks at Mrs A and asks her what he can do for her. She replies that she would like a new prescription please.
Doctor , again looking at me, “what medication are you on? And how is it , are you having any side effects?
Oh, I am not on any medication Doctor. I am not the patient, Mrs A is.
By this time I am really annoyed at this , needless to say , so is Mrs A.
I have a thought, maybe if I am not I the room he may address the right person. I excuse myself and leave the room.
When I return I see that there still has not been a prescription written out.
Well Doctor,” are you going to write out a prescription for Mrs A or not.”
Oh he replies “ I was just waiting for you to return”.
Spare me please! Am I the only one who can see Mrs A? The poor woman, how degrading it is to be treated like a nobody.
I thought that Doctors were supposed to be learned people. Surely it is not too difficult to treat an old person in a normal manner.
Finally it is done, we leave the clinic , we have a bit of a chuckle and decide that next time I will not go in at all, I will just drop Mrs A at the door and wait outside for her.
I wonder how long it will take ..
People who don’t use a spoon to get Jam out of the jar.
I get so pissed off when visitors come for a meal and show that they have no manners.
Take getting jam out of the jar for instance.
So many people just dip their knife into the jar, even though I always put a spoon next to it.
Once a persons’ knife has been dipped into the jam jar it usually leaves globs of butter in the jar.
I find that quite disgusting.
Sometimes the person even licks their knife before putting it in the jar, how gross is that?
Over the years I have lost count of the numbers of jars of jam I have had to throw out.
There is nothing worse than a jar of jam with huge chunks of butter mixed into it…
The thought of the butter and maybe even saliva from the licked knife is almost too much to bear.
One look is enough to make me physically ill.
When I was a kid, my dad would insist on jam being put into a cute little dish on the table, and a jam spoon placed beside it.
I thought he was a bit strange, but now I have seen what happens if this is not done.
So Dad, you were not as strange as I thought..
In fact, from now on I am going to do that same..
Cotton all over the side of our beautiful roads.
It looks disgusting, it looks like someone has blown their nose on a thousand tissues and dumped them. It looks like small pieces of used toilet paper flying everywhere.
It makes me mad.
Whilst travelling about our beautiful country it soon becomes clear in which areas cotton is grown.
The roadsides suddenly become littered with white stuff. Everywhere there is white fluffy stuff.
The average person would be fined thousands of dollars for littering like this. The cotton carriers seem to get away with it.
There are signs all over the outback, asking trucks to dump their dust before entering a town. Asking the carriers to spray the animals in the tick bay before proceeding.
Why can’t signs be put, where appropriate, for the Cotton carriers, asking them to cover their load.
Surely it would not be too difficult to cover the load so the pesky white fluff would not blow all over the road.
There must be a way of preventing it.
There is a way of preventing it.
Just cover your load!
I am sure some enterprising soul would make an absolute fortune if that person was dedicated enough to collect all this waste. Heck, I reckon one could make enough undies for a thousand people out of it.
Enough sheets for a family of 300. There is no end to the uses of this litter.
Cotton is expensive, the average Aussie cannot afford to buy pure cotton garments. Yet, here it is, absolute waste, all over the side of the road. It goes on for hundreds of kilometres, sometime really thick and other times not so much, but all the while it is there.
Maybe we should start a petition to stop all this litter.
Now that sounds like a good idea.