Bitch on the Blog

July 15, 2013

Tale from the unsuspecting

Filed under: Amusement — bitchontheblog @ 14:17
Tags: , , , , , , ,

Some of my elders, youngers and betters may have something to say to me. Sternly.

I am fighting a battle. A battle between being impulsive (ie not living with a thought for tomorrow) and rationality (thinking about consequences). It’s a raging battle. Amply supported by foot soldiers like optimism, despair at three in the morning, and generally trying to work out what the hell is going on.

If I were a cheese I think someone should ripen me.

If I were a pear (particularly avocado) I’d buy myself on the market, with misgivings, and – on returning home – put myself into a brown paper bag in hope to ripen. Make that over-ripen. Inedible on the day you fancy a pear. Missing that little window of perfection.

No one wants to be a banana. If unattended and not eaten a banana will brown.

Probably best to be an apple. Though someone might choke on it. And a hundred years later a minor will kiss you. Which, these days, is, technically, not possible because you’d be done for leading someone, one hundred years younger than you, astray. The fault in the argument, and defense lawyers know this, that Sleeping Beauty didn’t ask to be kissed.

Yes, its’ a minefield out there. Going to do some severe filing now. Lest the apple of my eye will choke on the mess his mother is going to leave behind – at some point in the future. That’s what I hate about “the future”. There is a always a point. When? Future be what it may but it’s no logistics expert. You can’t expect people turning up at some terminal with hope in their heart. What you do in England is turn up at a train station. Your heart already sunk.

Happy Monday to you too. And it’s already thirteen minutes past three British Summer Time.




  1. “I am fighting a battle. A battle between being impulsive (ie not living with a thought for tomorrow) and rationality (thinking about consequences). It’s a raging battle.”
    My psychologist daughter would say you are a combination of OCD & ADD (not necessarily ADHD). Never fear. She says I’m a combo of five, those & I forget what else.

    As for avocado there’s not much of a window between hard & mushy brown. Same with bananas. The apple lasts. “An apple a day keeps the doctor away” I hear is true.

    Can’t bank on the future either.

    Comment by bikehikebabe66 — July 15, 2013 @ 14:52 | Reply

    • “Can’t bank on the future either” – you should hear my mother on this, three weeks your senior. And she is the most resilient optimistic person ever. When I speak to her I am in a time warp with her. To me she sounds as young as she was when I first remember her. We do speak about death, frequently. We are not squeamish over the necessities of life. I think her one wish (selfishly) to die before my father does, and (unselfishly) before she loses her marbles. I keep telling her that, considering our family’s genetic history, there will be no dementia. On the other hand: Other people’s fears need to be respected.

      Don’t make me laugh, Cynthia: OCD/ADD? Next your daughter will send me a prescription for Retalin. I don’t like pigeon holing. I am perfectly happy in my perfect skin and my not so perfect soul. Just wonder sometimes how to reconcile two different aspects of one’s character. That’s just my bloody brain thinking about it. Those “two different aspects of one’s character” appearing to get along just fine. Never mind the owner. Happy to house them and hoping they won’t give me notice and move out.

      “An apple a day keeps the doctor away”? Absolutely. Apples are my comfort food. Always have been. In fact, my first husband used to complain that last thing at night (after lights out) I’d munch an apple and make an awful noise doing so. Amazing what some people get hot under the colour about. I often joke, in earnest, that if you want to eat apples in peace, if not quietly, best not get married.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 15, 2013 @ 15:28 | Reply

      • “… under the colour about” which, of course, should have been ‘collar’. Just shows you the benefits of phonetic spelling. Straight, Forward, Easy. No room for error. Though – and so very amusing – the English language does lend itself to more horseplay with words. As evidenced by some of the most inane headlines in the papers.


        Comment by bitchontheblog — July 15, 2013 @ 15:37 | Reply

      • Lydia did extensive testing to diagnose my ADD & had me go to a psychiatrist who put me on Adderall, 5 ml. — for starters. 20 ml. is the usual. After awhile I bit the 5 ml in half. It was my “Feel Good” pill & was enough. I only went to the psychiatrist twice because he charged $200 a session not using my insurance. I needed him for the prescription slips because Adderall is a controlled substance. The woman in the waiting room looked living-off-the-streets. She paid nothing obviously.

        Then I read what internet had to say about side effects:
        7 drug regulatory agency warnings issued from two countries on Adderall causing:
        Death/sudden death
        Heart attack
        Heart problems
        My Primary Care doctor laughed. She would prescribe the pill it but said it wasn’t good for me. I quit. Miss the Feel Good sometimes. Not as wonderful as morphine which I had once. With that I could be a pothead.

        Comment by bikehikebabe66 — July 15, 2013 @ 16:02 | Reply

        • My dear Cynthia, we had a similar conversation before. I am still astonished that a daughter would “diagnose” her own mother (or father or sibling) – unless it’s part of a party game. I know your daughter used ‘professional tests’, yet there is no doubt in my mind that in that close a relationship it’s impossible to be objective. After all, if you think about: That’s why both patient and practitioner are reminded to keep boundaries, not be or get emotionally involved. On the other hand, and to be fair to your daughter: She might have either just been practicing her professional skills on you, or thought she’d do you something good.

          However, and repeating myself: I’d caution anyone turning analyst with people close to you.

          I know I shouldn’t but can’t help laughing reading your list of “side effects”. It’s brilliant.

          Particularly “Death” or worse “SUDDEN death” makes me grin from ear to ear. Talk about giving people an incentive to take their medication.

          I am glad your Primary Care doctor laughed. And that you decided to quit. As you know I believe we medicalize traits of personality, putting mind and soul into some sort of “correction facility” instead of allowing each other our quirks, our eccentricities. And before your daughter takes a thorough dislike to me on ground of my opinion I’d like to say: Yes, there is a place for what her profession does. But not all over the place. I could recount examples of life stories of people I have known personally, first hand as it were. Some benefited from mental health care – no doubt about it. Others? Well … The answer is a resounding NO. Sometimes coming out far worse at the end of it, or not the person they once were.

          As to morphine. Know what you mean. I too had it once when they tried to reset my arm manually. It was a night of bliss, utter bliss, there in my hospital bed. If morphine were available over the counter I am sure you and I would make a merry couple of potheads. Can you imagine it? Best way I can describe the experience (it’s nearly three years ago) it was like being enveloped, not so much protected from the rough edges of life but ready and happy to tackle them. Invincible, so to speak.


          Comment by bitchontheblog — July 17, 2013 @ 08:58 | Reply

          • My daughter would never help me years before for the reason you said, we have too close a bond.

            I was having a “friend” bully me after her warm greetings to me. Picture that. “Friend” said we wouldn’t be friends for long because she would say offensive things. I said no I’d always be her friend. I suffered for 5 years & Lydia wouldn’t help me.

            Comment by bikehikebabe66 — July 17, 2013 @ 14:03 | Reply

  2. I also tend to wake up despairing at three in the morning. No idea what the despair is about, though the uncertain future and what will become of me is probably one ingredient. Probably also the generally woeful state of the world. But once I’m out of bed fortunately optimism takes over.

    Comment by nick — July 17, 2013 @ 07:18 | Reply

    • Yes, Nick, I remember you making reference to it before.

      They do say that the darkest hour is before dawn (3 am BST and in winter 4 am GMT). However, the way I see it, and how it’s usually interpreted: That darkest hour MAGNIFIES all that is on our minds. It’s dark it’s quiet. Even a molehill has potential to convince you you’ll have a mountain to climb. Hence as you say, “once I’m out of bed fortunately optimism takes over.” Which proves the point.

      Let me guess, not a particularly original one because virtually all children experience it: Were you afraid of the dark as a young boy? It’s a primal thing, deeply imbedded.

      I am lucky in that I only wake up at that most unfortunate hour of the night, heart pounding, when I have a REAL life problem going on – one which I either don’t yet have a solution for, or have no control over.

      Light greetings,

      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 17, 2013 @ 09:11 | Reply

      • No, I don’t remember being afraid of the dark as a young boy. I did go through a phase of fearing the dark a year or so ago but it went away again. But then this is despair of something everyday rather than fear of the dark.

        Comment by nick — July 17, 2013 @ 12:39 | Reply

  3. PS: I’ve been making comments for some time but they kept vanishing….

    Comment by nick — July 17, 2013 @ 07:20 | Reply

    • Sorry about that, Nick. As I said in my earlier post it’s frustrating to pen an answer only to find it vanishes. Which is why I now copy into notepad (as a holding station) before pressing send. So if someone’s comment box doesn’t play you can try again later. Have to say that blogspot/blogger, particularly those with encryption, are the worst offenders.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 17, 2013 @ 09:16 | Reply

  4. Legend has it that when you cannot sleep in the night, it is because you are in someone else’s dream.

    Comment by Rummuser — July 17, 2013 @ 15:49 | Reply

    • Stop dreaming of me then. Will reciprocate favour.

      On a more tender note: That legend a lovely notion. And such comfort too. If I weren’t so afraid of heights I’d ask Aladin to lend me his magic carpet.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — July 17, 2013 @ 21:19 | Reply

      • Ah, but I don’t wake up at three in the morning and start thinking from inside or outside the box! How sad that noone is dreaming of me.

        Comment by Rummuser — July 18, 2013 @ 01:21 | Reply

        • I wake up at 3, more like 4 am. I’ll think of you Ramana. Thinking should be more powerful than dreaming but it has to travel to a continent on the other side of the world. (This comment proves it doesn’t take much to entertain me.)

          Comment by bikehikebabe66 — July 18, 2013 @ 01:49 | Reply

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