When there's nothing on the telly

Aren't you supposed to have sex?


Instead I find things to wash, and he finds Tomb Raider to play.

I had coffee and cake in Tescos with a man who has schizophrenia today. I've never knowingly met someone with this condition before, which is neither here nor there, as it manifests itself differently in each individual. In fact, some of his more unusual behaviours seem more in line with suspected but undiagnosed aspergers. Poor bugger really does have a lot of things to contend with in terms of fitting in with the general population. He seemed very timid and vulnerable, and although articulate kept getting stuck on saying the same things. 'I get the screams, Katherine, I have an-ice-scream' was one. Although he managed not to scream the hour we were out, he was obviously struggling at times. I wish it was possible to look around inside people's brains in the same way as you can their intestines. I'm sure the results would be far more interesting.

Musings from my long walk home

when the 11C eludes me.


This new blog idea hasn't exactly got off to a flying start has it? This reflects how busy I have been since my first post. It also reflects the fact that my other half* didn't have band practice all last week because his drummer fractured a rib playing football. I don't like using the laptop when Pete is home of an evening. Firstly because he will insist on saying things to me, breaking my concentration, and making me snap at him to shh. Secondly because I'd rather be on the sofa cuddling him.


So as this is just a rushed entry I'll make do with shopping observations.


Top Shop


I bought Dubble easter eggs for the folks from Oxfam, because they were cheap and boxed in cardboard. So I thought I ought to buy a bar for myself, just to check it... Glad to report that Dubble chocolate has come a long way, taste wise. Something Green n Blacks could learn from because their milk chocolate is a bit rank, in comparison to their dark chocolate, which is the best thing known to man.


Actually, the best thing known to man is the Boots meal deal. In particular the following combination: Skinnie Minnie hummus and carrot sandwich, Innocent smoothie, Boots chocolate cake. Added bonus: the sandwich box is compostable, the smoothie bottle is recycled, and the cake rapper is so flimsy as to be inconsequential. Perfection.


Flop Shop


Sainsburys were doing that annoying thing they do of selling overpriced skinless free ranged chicken breasts, when they know full well they can sell free range chicken breasts are far more normal prices with their skins on. So I had to buy chicken thighs instead, and can be seen attempting to hack off the required meat for my curry from them in the kitchen tomorrow evening.


*'the other half'. Term derided by old-school feminists. 'Why do you need someone to complete you?!' etc. However I stand by the term. Were I to lose Pete, it would not feel like losing a limb, but like losing part of my brain. If the brain is the seat of self, then he is indeed part of me. I know I'm not alone in this. But it is about expansion, not completion. There is strength in numbers, but to get away from the binary you have to get from 1 to 2, and perhaps if you get this initial relationship right, the others stand a chance.