I'm Still Standing and Joel Osteen
Without Prejudice
I was going to write this fantastic story that would start with " When the smoke clears and the dust settles I'll still be standing." I get up at 5am every day, seven days a week and on Sunday's watch the Evangelists, like Joel Osteen, Joseph Prince, Bobby Schuller and Brian Houston.
Joel Osteen delivered a stellar sermon last Sunday on " I'm still standing " as its your failures that can make you, not the wins.
And then being the OCD person that I am I cleaned up first.
I folded a blanket and twisted around to put it on the sofa and fucked my back. As in f-u-c-k-e-d my back, just so you are not confused I am an older person but I am allowed to swear. Apparently these days women cry less and swear more. It's a woman thing.
I felt it rip, my back, and it was the tiniest movement. Just a twist and it was fait accompli.
Quelle Bummer.
I was surprised as I have hauled logs, gates, fencing and numerous piles of dirt and detritus and nothing has ever happened. Zilch, zip, nada. But the tiniest twist and I felt that familiar pain of once before. The back pain from hell.
The one that makes you go ow, ow, ow every time you move.
Getting in the car is a whole experience of its own, consisting mainly of a lot of screaming which comes out of my gritted teeth as an ow, ow, ow. I dread sneezing. I also decided to come off HRT last week. So now I have hot flushes returning and a bad back. FML.
You have no idea how quickly a hot flush can come on when you have given up HRT, they return within days. And though it might be minus 4 degrees outside I want to strip off all my clothes and run out in the iron grey backyard. I figured this might result in the next door neighbour, " Mr Grumpy" falling off his ladder and knocking out the rest of his teeth.
Yes, he gets up on his roof in minus 4 degrees and goes quiet when I am in the backyard trying to peg out the clothes as quietly as is possible.
He's Bi Polar and refuses to take his meds but self medicates on beer. That's when he starts to sing and abuse the missus, calling her dumb, ugly, fat etc ad nauseum. She puts up with it unlike the other two wives who left, crying. She puts up with it as she is homeless and 53.
He has a nice home. Well from out the front at least. It's beautiful from the front and chaos in the back but I figured that was because he is Bi Polar. Business in the front and party in the back, a bit like what his brain must be like. I heard him asking her to marry him the other day while he was in his cups. I felt like screaming out,
" Run "
But I didn't.
I have a new philosophy on life. If it doesn't concern me, it's nothing to do with me. I have my own life to worry about.
I have my own Bi Polar child or Multiple Personality Disorder child. She's 43 and had eight kids and also does a lot of screaming. Luckily she doesn't drink. She also doesn't like meds and my Sis, the Nurse says that Bi Polars don't take their meds as they like the " Highs". No one else does.
Grumpy chooses not to wear his top denture if he is at home. If he needs to talk to me he keeps his mouth hidden under his hand. This adds nothing to his looks.
I am used to him. I act like he is completely normal and ignore the echolia, the singing, the whistling and his acting extra happy as I called him a grumpy old man once. That was when I first came here, five years ago, and ever since then he goes out of his way to be Mr Happy.
His son had hung himself the week I first moved in. He told me as he walked by me. It was like it was forced out of him, almost an apology. He died he had said, not the hung himself part. In Moe, he was on drugs and lived with his other 2 brothers and their Mother. It was the ex wives fault, naturally and the boy was 18.
He had hardly seen him over the years as he hated the ex wife. And the other ex wife.
I always listen patiently as he tells me things as he is a good neighbour and can be relied on in an emergency.
He also barracks for Collingwood so can't be all bad.
So no fantastic story today, all 650,000 of you.
I am injured, and am trying not to take the meds that comatose you so badly you fall sideways on the couch and wake up ages later trying to peel your face off the cushion.
I try not to drool but the dried up gunge on my cushion I have had peel my face away from would suggest otherwise.
So bad back, hot flushes, crazy neighbours, the fun never stops here in the illustrious suburb of Cranbourne East.
Cheers,
Nette x
I was going to write this fantastic story that would start with " When the smoke clears and the dust settles I'll still be standing." I get up at 5am every day, seven days a week and on Sunday's watch the Evangelists, like Joel Osteen, Joseph Prince, Bobby Schuller and Brian Houston.
Joel Osteen delivered a stellar sermon last Sunday on " I'm still standing " as its your failures that can make you, not the wins.
And then being the OCD person that I am I cleaned up first.
I folded a blanket and twisted around to put it on the sofa and fucked my back. As in f-u-c-k-e-d my back, just so you are not confused I am an older person but I am allowed to swear. Apparently these days women cry less and swear more. It's a woman thing.
I felt it rip, my back, and it was the tiniest movement. Just a twist and it was fait accompli.
Quelle Bummer.
I was surprised as I have hauled logs, gates, fencing and numerous piles of dirt and detritus and nothing has ever happened. Zilch, zip, nada. But the tiniest twist and I felt that familiar pain of once before. The back pain from hell.
The one that makes you go ow, ow, ow every time you move.
Getting in the car is a whole experience of its own, consisting mainly of a lot of screaming which comes out of my gritted teeth as an ow, ow, ow. I dread sneezing. I also decided to come off HRT last week. So now I have hot flushes returning and a bad back. FML.
You have no idea how quickly a hot flush can come on when you have given up HRT, they return within days. And though it might be minus 4 degrees outside I want to strip off all my clothes and run out in the iron grey backyard. I figured this might result in the next door neighbour, " Mr Grumpy" falling off his ladder and knocking out the rest of his teeth.
Yes, he gets up on his roof in minus 4 degrees and goes quiet when I am in the backyard trying to peg out the clothes as quietly as is possible.
He's Bi Polar and refuses to take his meds but self medicates on beer. That's when he starts to sing and abuse the missus, calling her dumb, ugly, fat etc ad nauseum. She puts up with it unlike the other two wives who left, crying. She puts up with it as she is homeless and 53.
He has a nice home. Well from out the front at least. It's beautiful from the front and chaos in the back but I figured that was because he is Bi Polar. Business in the front and party in the back, a bit like what his brain must be like. I heard him asking her to marry him the other day while he was in his cups. I felt like screaming out,
" Run "
But I didn't.
I have a new philosophy on life. If it doesn't concern me, it's nothing to do with me. I have my own life to worry about.
I have my own Bi Polar child or Multiple Personality Disorder child. She's 43 and had eight kids and also does a lot of screaming. Luckily she doesn't drink. She also doesn't like meds and my Sis, the Nurse says that Bi Polars don't take their meds as they like the " Highs". No one else does.
Grumpy chooses not to wear his top denture if he is at home. If he needs to talk to me he keeps his mouth hidden under his hand. This adds nothing to his looks.
I am used to him. I act like he is completely normal and ignore the echolia, the singing, the whistling and his acting extra happy as I called him a grumpy old man once. That was when I first came here, five years ago, and ever since then he goes out of his way to be Mr Happy.
His son had hung himself the week I first moved in. He told me as he walked by me. It was like it was forced out of him, almost an apology. He died he had said, not the hung himself part. In Moe, he was on drugs and lived with his other 2 brothers and their Mother. It was the ex wives fault, naturally and the boy was 18.
He had hardly seen him over the years as he hated the ex wife. And the other ex wife.
I always listen patiently as he tells me things as he is a good neighbour and can be relied on in an emergency.
He also barracks for Collingwood so can't be all bad.
So no fantastic story today, all 650,000 of you.
I am injured, and am trying not to take the meds that comatose you so badly you fall sideways on the couch and wake up ages later trying to peel your face off the cushion.
I try not to drool but the dried up gunge on my cushion I have had peel my face away from would suggest otherwise.
So bad back, hot flushes, crazy neighbours, the fun never stops here in the illustrious suburb of Cranbourne East.
Cheers,
Nette x
