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My day at the dole went better than expected: although on this occasion, I had Simon there with me and, the member of staff I saw was someone I recalled from years previous. I left with the thought that on the 17th I’d be seeing the idiot from a few years ago and, that really concerns me. That fellow, Richard Diamond, manipulated Dad and I into moving monies meant for me after Dad was gone, into a dual account and then, he used that action against us and, my Dad suffered a mini-stroke through the stress of it all.

Now, after I ‘win’ my case against the dole, he decides to return and ‘review my case’; as is legal right I know. It just seems so unfair and, particularly right now, while I’m going through a myriad of things and, trying to help Dad keep as much of his routine as possible.

Then as I sat and mended my sock I noted my toe had a cut, possibly very sore, needed attention: so it gottit. Yet, as to the gut's that were the reason I’d sought the sock. Believe me, of all people, that as I keep reminding ppl, I have four complaints, besides stress and, in some way they all act against one another... but, the guts is the one that seems to make it all the worse.

There have been recent consolations, as it were. I did get to see Karl, which had been a trek, with a bloated stomach: but, it had been good to see him and, he got the new Dell working efficiently again. Yes, days after getting it, I’d managed to pick something up onnit, which definitely didn’t agree with it. And, as it is the newest of all my laptops, I wanted it to work as it should.

Then, I rang Alex on a day he intended to see the lady he help, or as I say … has him helping her. I mean, the days she really needed him are gone, yet she continues to use him and, that’s the right word. Anyway, realizing it was hardly likely he’d call round, as I learned his intent, I’d said, “Have a good night.”

A short while later Alex had rung back saying, ‘Seems I’m free this evening, is it still alright to call?” Distraction is well-needed by me of late, hence my liking for some of the new shows that have been on and are on, like X-Files and, Lucifer.

X-Files really did feel like the show I recall and, as for Lucifer, if had been a real pleasure to put it to disc for Pete, who wanted to see the show as it was part of the DC Comics Vertigo Endless Series.

Then midweek, while I was feeling a little sorry for myself, Barry’s nephew Mike called down and we watched ‘Dark City’ together: it is still as good a film as I’d recalled and, it had been good to see him enjoy it, as I had years ago.

As I went out and about with a bloated tummy, I wished I could take Omoperozole, or either of it’s like, that I’ve tried: might work for Dad, but for me all three just seized up the left side of me even worse than it is already.

And, there was my Dad, mowing and cutting and weeding and boy, did I feel useless, getting up late, after another bad morning and there was he, being is 89 year old seeming indestructible self. And, that had pleased me greatly.

But, the bust pedal bin in the kitchen… that annoyed.

So, after doing some research and making a few changes, I went out, leaving Dad in the garage, working away, talking of it being a Heath Robinson affair. On my return, Dad had proved to be the Mr. Fixit of old, having not only mended the kitchen pedal bin, but also improving on the original design. He was proud, I’d been impressed.

Well, the day I’d been dreading came and went; and though I’m having my usual irritating gut at this time of night as I write, I’m still here: I survived.

Grant you, Simon had been late, as I found out when I’d tentatively entered the jobcentre and asked whether he’d left a message.

As it happens, the very fellow I hold responsible for my Father’s mini-stroke and possibly my gastritis, Richard Diamond, showed up and politely showed me to a seated area, to wait for Simon.

As I had waited and, shuffled through my papers, a manager asked how I was and, when I went into detail and who I blamed and, who I was to see… she’d had to say the obvious, ‘I can’t really comment.’

Well, to be succinct, Simon had arrived and we’d followed Richard Diamond into a private interview room, where the crux of it all was whether or not the amount of capital I had was more or less than six thousand. Thankfully the interview had not lasted long, after I’d verified what I have and don’t have…

Having left, I went a long walk, on a sunny afternoon and got some healthy snacks for myself at the Bromborough complex, at the 99p shop, that I’d later been assured was supposed to be closed. It hadn’t been... it’s been taken over it seems, by Poundland.

So, everything now costs, one penny more than it had, now.

And, the Professors special pill just wasn’t, special that is. The worst was, it hadn’t been me who had realised, it had been my chemist. As she had processed the prescription she realised that the name of the drug had another name, Colefac, a drug I’d tried before, the side-effects of which were well worse than the problem itself.

It had been one of several drugs I’d tried, before going to see Professor Probert, but when I had tried to talk to him of side-effects and things I’d tried, he’d deflected all of that with, “So that means you don’t want to try…” And, his belittling attitude had got to me and, I’d just shut up… As it is, now I wish I’d said more.

And talking of Osbourne and Pip, I’ve applied for it. Several people of late tried to convince me I was eligible, so I finally got to see Simon and, we did the necessary, to start that all rolling… meanwhile, one just carries on, day-to-day…



It’s just a tad surreal, all of this, when just a year ago… I had been pretty fit…