Signed off

I've been signed off work with stress, which until this morning I was feeling guilty about. My blood pressure blew about three months ago and I've been taking Cozaar to keep it down ever since. However it doesn't seem to be helping with the barely suppressed panic that I'm not getting stuff done. I've been shutting my office door and yelling at colleagues when three of them try to ask me a question at the same time. I've been trying to do two tasks that require me to be in two different rooms at the same time. I woke up at 5am this morning with a racing heart because I'd forgotten to put the rubbish bins out. Physically panicking because I hadn't put the bins out. Sheesh.

It was at that point that I realised the doctor was right to sign me off work.

I've made a list in my office outlook tasks today of the various personal, professional and financial procedures that need to be done before I leave in September. It's about 40 tasks long and each of them are going to need an appointment, or two or three, before they're over. They consist of things like sorting out what I want to take with me, issuing a call for tenders for movers, getting the movers in, making a will, selling the car, renting out the spare room, getting medical check-ups, sorting out admin with Scouse Doris who is staying in the apartment, etc etc etc. It's a lot.

I'm hoping making a list with deadlines will help me deal with it better, cut the elephant up into chunks. Anyone got any other advice?

In which I reflect on how bloody lucky I am

I grieve at the moment due to unspeakable horrors blighting the existences of close friends and family. I won't go into the horrors in question because they are other people's business. And so I choose instead today to reflect instead on one of the positive pieces of news I have had this weekend. I also wish to thank the powers that be that my own existence is currently fairly blessed, for which I am tonight trying not to feel guilty.

My beloved cousin C. has emerged from an epic battle involving his nose, a chisel, probably assorted other (hopefully) sharper instruments, and a rowdy horde of recalcitrant but now defunct polyps. He is apparently still quite himself, although morphined up to the eyeballs and sounding a bit like Kenneth Williams (see below) until they take several hundred meters of cotton wool back out of his sinuses. I wonder what will have happened to his previously honourably rugby-bashed nose. I was quite fond of it the way it was.

And now for some Kenneth Williams. They don't do gentleman comedians like this any more.

Things I've seen this week.

Julio Buitrago community, El Rama, rio Escondido. Flood warning simulation. A village committee member calls his neighbours to high ground.



Bluefields, Nicaragua. Storms have washed rubbish and filth down the hill into a barrio overnight. People are busy clearing it up.



Telica volcano, near Leon, Nicaragua. Schoolchildren performing an evacuation drill.

Off on another trip

There may be some fantastic photos when I get back from this one.

Mornington Cresent, I think. Here's the map, clicky to geopen.

Cutty Sark.

In which I purchase a shredder

I suppose the time has come for me to tell you that my best-laid plans as announced last year have come to fruition, and I leave for somewhere where I will have to speak Spanish on or around Sept 1st this year.

As a result I am slowly trying to prepare my house for rental. This involves turning out a good 10 years' worth of accumulated archived bank documents, salary slips, and other assorted private information. One hears such dreadful stories about identity cloning that I haven't been throwing these away, but building them up in a corner awaiting the day I got access to a shredder.

Today I bought a shredder.

I had no idea it would be such fun to see assorted documents being munched into confetti. It reminded me forcibly of a game I used to play with Pickle, us either side of a door and me wiggling a bit of paper under it in a tantalising fashion. I had a delightful 15 minutes of watching my 1995 bank statements disappear in a very similar manner until the shredder seized up from overheating. It's cooling down now. I'd call it a cheap piece of tosh, but it wasn't cheap.

Of course, what I needed was one of these:

In which I am HORRIFIED by Delia Smith

I cannot believe my ears and eyes this evening watching Delia Smith's appalling new show. I NEVER thought I would see this day, and I am absolutely aghast.

She has completely sold out to convenience food. Tinned mince. Frozen mashed potato. "Why don't you have some of these spicy potato wedges in your freezer?".

Well I'll tell you Delia. Because they are covered in preservatives, colourings and other E-numbers, and I don't control the salt and fat contents. How could you. How COULD YOU! Besides which, her tinned mince (catfood?) shepherds' pie just looked revolting. As did the potato wedge dip. Urgh. Urgh Urgh Urgh.

I'm disgusted. I'd like to say I'll not watch her show, but it's like driving past a culinary car accident. You can't tear your eyes away from it. I hope she's getting paid a hell of a lot for it by the convenience food lobbyists, because it's going to ruin her reputation.

Delia. Unfortunately, she's not having a laugh.

Sometimes you're just so happy, you want to share it. Hugs to you all!