The art of dating when you are in your 40’s is a perilous, soul destroying mission. I blame my misfortune with men on the 'fairy tale factor'... That never ending belief that love conquers all and that one day a prince will come.

Reality isn't even close to the fairy tale. Especially when the prince doesn’t just come with baggage – he comes with a bitter, money grubbing ex-wife clinging to his back like a hump.

I gave it a shot. It sucked. I suffered a potential serial killer teenager who would pick his nose and wipe it on the wall. I gained 15 kilo; became invisible to the world. Yeah; I don’t think I’ll do that again.

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Taking time...

Well I decided to keep at it, even though I'm getting zippo in the joy department.

Everything seems to want to rectify itself so slowly.  The worst is the terrible exhaustion, which if I'm honest, threatens to consume me.

We are moving into a new house.  Most unfortunate in timing but there it is.  I'll be out of shopping strip, rats and life and in to suburbia; of course if I don't get my license back, God knows how I'm going to get anywhere!

I'm knee deep in boxes and if I'm honest, I want to do all the wrapping myself to make sure it's done correctly.  Yeah; I'm asking myself that same question.  Why don't I give some of it over to my kids..?  Well, that would be easier if they were here.  There out having a good time since I'm not mumbling and horsefly swatting myself.  In other words, since they can understand me, I'm fine.

You'll have to bear with me because I'm teaching myself to touch type again.  Well its funny... It's not exactly teaching myself to type; its teaching myself not to be dyslexic.  I type all the damned words out but I have to go back and correct more words that not.

Oh well, more later.  I'm off to the movies with a friend.

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Okay. That sucked...

I'm sitting here going extremely slowly on my computer.  Why am I going this ever frustratingly snails pace when I haven't been on since October..?

Well you may remember that the premise around leaving you last year was my brain.  It was packing up... Throwing the towel in... Giving up the ghost.

The short of it is that they; on their first visit out; stuffed my brain.  A simple 'basic' operation - that turned into four and left me sitting in a waiting room for four hours between operations; getting brain damage.

I haven't been to work since then.  This is the first time I could gather my wits enough to try and sit at the computer.

The good new is that each week sees me relearning things and I'm almost a person again; aside from a few typos....  And the delete key!

Monday, October 27, 2014

How many Neurosurgeons does it take to screw…

Hey, that wasn't going to be 'in a light bulb..?'  It was going to be screw with your sanity!

I have put up with my whacky brain giving me grief time and time again and mentioned a thousand times that ‘they’ll kill me’ at some stage.   Now the time has come to start taking action for the sake of my health/life!


If you happen to be a neurosurgeon reading this; please note.  You are not God.  You are not even close.  If you don’t lift your game and admit that maybe the patient knows more about her body than you do – you will kill someone.

For me; I need to go through my record and understand exactly what they’ve done to me; and what mistakes they’ve made before I do anything.  I suspect that won’t be pretty!

My Dad always used to say that doctors are the ones that get to bury their mistakes.  He wasn’t wrong on that score!