that's better.

Either the heat is slightly less brutal today, or walking to Mum's was the exact right amount of exercise to kick my system into functionality; I feel better than I have for weeks.

I am sick of feeling so crappy all the time. Trying to do something about it. I doubt I'll ever have the motivation to eat a truly healthy diet, but I went shopping last night and started work on a slightly less unhealthy one.

And I am cooking. I am cooking RIGHT NOW. It is a sort of vegetable stew, with carrots, chickpeas, leeks, cabbage and celery, all held together with either mushed canned tomatoes or canned ratatouille - I haven't decided yet. And bacon. Big chunks of pinky-gold smoked bacon, dirt cheap because they were the tail-ends that wouldn't fit neatly in the slicer. But a lot more vegetables and pulses than bacon.

The celery is even organic - admittedly only because Asda had run out of bog-standard celery, but it still counts.

(argh, pissfuck, the thrice-damned onions burned while I was typing this. Oh well. It'll add a nice chargrilled flavour. Or something.)

Also included: the remnants of a bar of dark chocolate flavoured with chillies that neither I nor my mother could bear to eat as is. I've had it lurking in the kitchen cupboard for months waiting for just such an opportunity. I might add in some cream of coconut as well, and turn the whole thing into a sort of fusion ersatz mole.

...I remember now why I used to enjoy cooking.


Also, arse. I've put everything into the biggest pan I have and there's no room for the fucking chickpeas. (I soaked those last night and cooked them by themselves this morning, because if you cook vegetables for as long as it takes to cook chickpeas they dissolve.) Hopefully there'll be room for them when the vegetables have cooked a bit.

NEED MOAR PANZ.

Edited to add: Further notes on cooking: This flat does not possess a smoke alarm, although the council have visited twice, expressed concern and promised to return and install one at some unspecified future date.

However, the spotted dog does appear to possess an inbuilt smoke alarm. As soon as the pan reached scorch point, Squish started yowling and indicating that I should visit the kitchen. I love my weird dog.

well, I'm not diabetic. Doctor says it could be a urinary infection (wouldn't I be able to tell?) or possibly thyroid problems. Blood test appointment and antibiotics in case it's the infection thing.

have felt like shit on a stick all day, and the bus ride out there in the heat was ghastly enough before the 498328474 eleven year old schoolkiddies piled in.

...although I have my doubts about them actually being schoolchildren. I think they may actually have been baboons executing a cunning plan to escape from captivity using purloined school uniforms and bus passes. Hard to tell. There were no tails showing but the shrieking, swinging up and down the bus and flinging each other's property about (no poo, but there was a shoe and s football) was a bit of a giveaway.

got home and played with dogs. Cassie is refusing to eat the rabbit I defrosted today. She sometimes does this with the mince; sometimes you get a pack with a lot of fatty bits in it and she doesn't like that. I bought her some fresh herrings while I was out. Let's see if she likes those.

am now going to take my headache and lie down. ugh.

Edited to add: Cassie fell on the raw herring and tore into it like Homer Simpson on a pizza. YAY!

Buster Gonads lives - unfeasibly large and TOTALLY not worksafe link.

I think I'm scarred for life.

in other news, still feel crappy though eating protein seems to make me feel less shite than eating pizza.

ugh.

in other, other news, Squish interrupted me earlier yapping at the cats. I went to see what his problem was and he was letting me know that Shona kitten had managed to climb onto the bed by using a box that I'd put in place to stop them from wedging themselves under the bed.

Very pleased with Squish!

ugh. I don't know what's up with me, but something definitely is. I woke up feeling fantastic and a few hours later I'm all dizzy and hallucinatey and having trouble not falling over.

I've eaten. It's not that. Actually, I felt this way after eating last night too. Maybe I'm eating the wrong thing?

seven days till the doctor's appointment. I hope to hell he can do something.

the dogs want out. they went out two hours ago, they're going to have to wait a bit because right now I think they'd pull me over. that would be bad.


Edit: ( Almost caught Spike asleep with his tongue poking out )

I'm seriously wondering if this heat is going to kill me.

can't eat, can't stop drinking, can't think straight, am soaking myself in cold water every few hours. it feels like the only thing keeping me alive.

mum is doing well at T's, Maisie is fine in London with E. I'm wondering if some of this isn't just the collapse now that the immediate responsibilities of having to rush round coping have been lifted.

however, I've been wondering for a while if there might be something wrong. I've always kept my liquid intake on the high side, but needing 5 litres a day is a bit excessive even for me. There's also been the raging thirst if I'm separated from something to drink for more than fifteen minutes, the faintiness if I don't eat in the morning, the incredible lassitude and foggy thinking - I never do well in the heat but this last week I've felt constantly hungover and I can't spend five minutes on the couch without falling asleep. None of this is normal for me even in the heat.

sister T phoned halfway through typing this entry and nagged till I made a doctor's appointment. the annoyance of getting there on foot/bus has put me off, there's no direct bus and I'm not up to walking far in this weather. however, I still have Mum's debit card (with permission) and Mum says I can get a taxi if I like.

doctor's appt, Friday 14th, 4.20pm. mustn't forget it.

forgive me if I don't comment much today. love you all. but my head's spinning and I'm going to go lie down.