Well, it’s New Years eve. I have today and tomorrow off, then back to work. I’ve been hunting around for LFT tests all morning. None of the pharmacies have any, nor do they know when they will get more. I ordered some on the government website days ago. Sure, in any other situation I could simply minimise outdoor contact etc, but I work in a vaccination centre. We have to do daily LFT tests regardless of whether we are working or not. It’s getting real serious now. Over 180k cases reported just yesterday. The ops manager said it’s ok for one day if I can’t find any as I have raised it with management. Phew.
It seems I’m starting to become more part of the team now. Not only was the scary ops manager super helpful, she is being genuinely nice to me after initially coming across as quite harsh. More and more of my colleagues are starting to come and engage with me now. Seems I’m liked here too. Who knew? I’m enjoying it much more now. I’m comfortable with the system now and am quite efficient. All my vaccinators have been lovely in one way or another. I’m starting to feel at home again… I almost forgot how much soul food this job gives me. It’s recharged me on so many levels. Despite the long hours, I’m more lucid these days. Obviously being a vaccinators admin, my accuracy is absolutely vital. I record vaccinations on the NHS database. The fire station was a soul food feast, and just when I needed it, but it was rarely mentally taxing. Now I’m doing the admin, my brain has woken up.
Over the last few weeks, my thoughts have started moving away from survival mode and more towards pushing forward in life. Both the kids and I are earning a lot more money now and I intend for us to live a little in 2022. Regardless of what variant appears, I struggle to believe that all of these mass vaccination centres will be open indefinitely. “Make hay while the sun shines.” as they say. After the gig my Princeling and I went to and after chatting with Precious, we are all in agreement that in the coming year, we should go to lots of gigs. There are still tickets to the Manchester Machine Head gig next September. £53 a ticket and a 4 hour drive each way. I think I can actually afford it now. I’m still hesitant though as I’ve been trying so hard to stop spending, as any of you regulars know, but after the last year and a half, how can I not go? It’s something I’ve wanted to share with my Princeling all along too.
So it’s a few days later now and I purchased tickets for my Princeling and I to see Machine Head this September. I need to sort out travel (it’s in Manchester) and decide if we are going to stay up there or not. My Headcase family are having a big meet there. Even some of my friends from America are going to be there. It’s going to be insane.
Today is my fourth twelve hour shift in a row. I’m pretty tired now, as are my colleagues. I’m on a four on, four off shift pattern now so I have four days off to enjoy. I can’t wait to catch up on sleep. Rest tomorrow and I’m going to deep clean the house after. It’ll be nice to have a spotless house for once. I also need to carry out some repairs and do a dump run with all the crap from the garden I’ve ignored all winter.
Friday now. I definitely needed a whole day of rest. I slept until 11am yesterday, then had a four hour nap in the afternoon. I didn’t even go to bed late last night either. I feel quite refreshed for a change and up around 8, so plenty of time for the deep cleaning. I’m pulling the furniture out and all sorts. I’m sick of living in a messy house. My Princeling is off work sick today, so I’m in stealth mode so he can sleep. I was worried we could have caught Covid, and I’m still not 100% sure we haven’t, but I do lateral flow tests every day for work and it’s all been ok so far. On my last shift, my colleague next to me had a bad headache, I’ve had one on and off for a couple of days and now my Princeling has one. Headaches are just one of the symptoms ascribed to the Omicron variant. I hope we don’t have it. Having to isolate now would screw us financially, just at the time where the increased pay will fend off the debt while I get a longer term plan in place.
It’s Sunday now. But it’s actually Sunday. Four days off has been a strange experience after working so much for so long. It’s given me time to really think about the way forward. Looking back over the last 2 years, financially speaking, how the hell I’ve kept us afloat I have no idea. I’ve been haemorrhaging money ever since My Lady passed away. Now is the time, while I’m earning good money, to start paying it all back. Somehow. To some, my total debt amount may seem trivial, but to me it’s a lot and something I refuse to let get any more out of control, because it was, out of control that is. Survival mode isn’t working any more and it wasn’t sustainable in the first place. That much is clear now. It’s time to push forward. As ever though, the big questions is: In what direction?
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in recent months, it’s that the direction isn’t always important. The bills are paid, our stomachs are full and even my soul is being fed with my role at the vaccination centre. I’m making friends again, just like at the fire station. I’ve been shown such empathy at times too. Again. Last week there was a young lady with a 9 month old baby in a pushchair come for her vaccination. My vaccinator goes through the usual screening questions and, as she is drawing the vaccine, she asks if he is her first child. The lady goes on the say she lost her first baby and that her father passed away the week this one was born, and then burst into tears. Wow. It was like a dagger through my heart. Of course, being a consummate professional (lol), my “I’m fine” mask didn’t even twitch. Inside however… It hurt, so much. Once the lady had composed herself and left, my vaccinator put her arm around me and just gave me a hug. I hadn’t even looked up from my screen throughout, but she knew. It’s moments like that, when you realise once again how special some of the clinical staff are. I genuinely felt looked after. Safe. After everything I’ve been through, that means so much to me. I’d forgotten how “safe” felt. It’s obviously not the same as the safe I felt with My Lady, granted, but still it fed something that has been so starved for so long. It felt good, really good even if it was fleeting. And to think I’m even being paid for this!
It’s just gone five pm. We’ve had a Sunday roast, washed up and all cleaned down already. Well, I washed and cleaned but whatever. Pedant much. Tumble dryer and washing machine still churning away in the background as I type. Chilled deep house playing at the same time. Three days at home and it’s still been constant. I don’t count the first day off as that was recovery day. Being off for four days has given me a chance to really think life through, and I’m not happy with myself. Not one bit. I hadn’t realised how I was still living in a bubble. I checked the dates on some of the cans and jars in the fridge and cupboard… Some of it would have been there when My Lady was still here. Still…
Enough now. I’ll probably come full circle again in another eight days after not doing any housework for four, but I have to break this damn cycle. One thing that has buoyed me in the mornings is that I’m travelling to work just before sunrise, and now it’s getting noticeably lighter on my way to work. That always lifts my spirits. Summer is on it’s way. How I do miss Summer…
I guess there’s not much left to do tonight. Nice to be ahead of the game for once. I’ll have a shower in a bit. I need to smell divine again. Typical that I’m actually starting to relax now and I’m working tomorrow. I’m having a beer now my chores are done. Weirdly I only had one beer Friday night and I was up until gone half three. Much as I like the odd beer here and there, I rarely, if ever aim to get completely drunk. I can never decide if it’s quantity (rarely) or regularity (less qty) that constitutes an alcohol problem. If I only drink once a week but get hammered, is that any better than sipping one every other evening? Having had an alcoholic mother, I don’t feel in any danger of becoming one myself. I never have. Sure, I had to have a chat with myself when I realised I was drinking almost daily, however little. ‘Aberrant behaviour’ as My Lady used to say, and she was right. She was always bloody right and I always knew it. She knew me better than I did. So yeah, now I try to look at myself through her eyes wherever possible and hold myself to her standards as much as I can. I’ll fail miserably at times of course, but I’ll always try. It’s just one small way of keeping her alive in me. Still, nearly two years after My Lady died, all I can think off when cleaning the chrome taps is how she loved shiny chrome taps. Might seem a silly thing, but it was always like that. When I was a househusband, it was ALL about that. Making the home nice for her when she always worked so damn hard. It still makes me sick that she did all that work and reaped none of the benefits. Ugh. At the risk of being repetitive, life’s such a bitch sometimes.
Tuesday: It’s pretty quiet at work today. Over half my time has been spent chatting with my colleagues. I’m leaving early today. My epilepsy medication has been in short supply at my local pharmacy and they are always closed when I’m not working. I took my last tablet today so I’m potentially in trouble if I still can’t get them today.
Living the dream…
The Life and Times of Lord Crookedhorn. 