9 th. September.

9 September 20 08:10
Had a scare last night I was unable to walk.
I could stand but every time I tried to move my left leg I got tremendous pain in the left side of my hip.
I managed to get to bed but was uncomfortable so had to get up again and dose myself with double painkillers.
This a.m. I’m walking so what brought it on I have no idea.

Looks like a very pleasant morning but my mind is still on the episode,
if that had happened outside I’d have been well stuck.
I should be used to body parts refusing to work properly but it is still scary when it occurs.
This is the first time my hip and leg have combined to give me jip.

Post lady is early this a.m.
I receive two identical letters from the same firm, no wonder customers get disillusioned with service providers.
As I look down at the keyboard I see the traces of meals past on my dressing gown will have to get super washer out!
If I keep on top of washing should be able to keep flat tidier, there’s also some ironing to do so have exciting day in prospect.

I’ve been through tab ends in ash tray and there’s a faint voice in the back of my mind trying to be heard above high pitch of Tinnitus saying good day to leave them alone; will see.
If I can keep occupied may be possible.

I sit near open window enjoying draught of fresh air,
even though I’ve smoked for most of my life I still dislike the smell left behind.
It has been two weeks since I smoked dope and I think I’ve sickened myself off that habit.
I refuse to be conned into buying any more until the quality improves.
I knew I had to give the dope up before I could seriously think about stopping the Nicotine.
I did think about getting help from the Doctor but that would be using a crutch, if I’m going to do it I have to do it alone.

Pleasant draught becomes an irritating chill so I close window.

LOOK FOR TAX. Car tax is due.

Whistling in head is louder than radio, annoying!

Yesterday I had a few cans of supermarket Lager and in truth enjoyed them, at eight cans for £5.00 I don’t mind that price same beer in pub would have cost double.
Every time I leave the dope alone I get urge to use alcohol to replace smoke but obviously never get a buzz anything like that of dope.
Alcohol is a depressant it isn’t a relaxant for me.

I watched a program yesterday relating to writing and was shocked by the amounts of money involved, £800,000 up front for well-known authors.
Average 5 years from idea to conception.
I could take that length of time.

The advice was to not worry about style, keep reader informed and interested,
let story line develop and not to over flower the plot.

I hope to develop a writing style as I progress with keyboard use, hence keeping journal, it’s of no use to anyone except me as a reminder of day to day life in a room 30 square feet,
little more than the average cell in Durham.

I researched what is considered to be the only working version of voice to text, is seems impressive but the hefty price tag puts it out of reach of my purse.
But if anything was to come from the sheets of script I’ve prepared it would be an easy way to get script into P.C. £180 is a figure I could save for, and the program and associated hardware would be handy.

I look around the room for inspiration;
a room, which has changed several times in the last year but is still no way near ideal.

The last of the baccy dust is rolled into a thin rollie and I’m now officially empty.
I halve the amount to keep enough for an even thinner last cigarette.

I sit back and remember having a full English breakfast accompanied by ice-cold lager in Catalonia,
sat outside a garage, enjoying the early morning sunshine before the heat of the day took control.
I would dearly love to travel abroad again, in my car preferably, taking in villages and fishing the numerous rivers and canals,
who knows I may get myself sorted and enlist the help of a similar minded soul to accompany me.

I move to stub out the cigarette then realise it’s my penultimate one and take an extra draw before extinguishing it.
My stomach reacts to the smoke and settles, craving sated.

Another cup of tea, this one loaded with sweetener in an attempt to satisfy stomach.
Today is going to be a long day unless I can find something to concentrate on and keep me occupied. I decided to split tasks up and switch between each.

I wonder what carrot I can dangle to help me give the tobacco up?
Financially I’d be £28 per. Month better off, which I suppose would cover price of broadband and insurance for TV.
I’d feel better, eventually.
It’s the sensible thing to do considering my heart problem and general poor health.
Would give me a chance to clean smell from clothes.
Would keep thoughts of smoking dope out of mind.
It’s something that has to be done, sooner rather than later.

Thirty four years of smoking isn’t going to be easy to give up but will try.
I need to give them up before hibernation,
I try to plan for the future but in truth I merely roll along.

Door bell rings and there’s my baccy supplier with a 40g. Pack!

File transfer appeared to work.
At moment have too many file transfer options will have to choose one and stick with it.

Caffeine injection, still haven’t found a palatable coffee!
I sit and listen to radio, wish I could slow down and relax just enjoy time passing instead of trying to be at full speed all the time.
Going to have break.

11:38 AM all done and dusted washing on line, ironing done, hoovered up;
make someone a good wife!
Makes a change having clean smelling clothes to put on.
A little everyday should see me through.

That’s the morning passed, Saturday is a dead day T.V. wise so just have to pass away the afternoon,
I suppose normally a couple of pints would be called for but today I’m not bothering.
Am learning a few more tricks with keyboard.

If I was a T.V. freak like the majority of single guys I’d be content to pass the time glued to the set.
I don’t dislike the idea of watching TV. from morning till night but I see such action as being a waste of time.

Dinner; chicken breast and stir-fry rice and veg.
Then going to pop to shop for some cans, calling in club for a couple first.
Why? Because I’ve deserved it!

Went to club, local team was playing against Sunderland Nissan;
I walked past the hot dog stall and entered.
Looking along the row of familiar pumps I decided to try something different.
Two bottles of Irish cider later, sat next to the crossword wizard I was sat happily burping,
nice drink but gassy!
At £2.20 a bottle I realised it would be an expensive hobby so returned home.

Nothing spoiling so went to bed for a couple of hours.
Woke up at six, watched Horn blower for the umpteenth time, when that had finished I surfed the channels and found there wasn’t a lot to look forward to till eventually found a three hour Steptoe and Son program on radio 7.
Knowing my father’s liking for the show I phoned him and blagged myself an invitation to Sunday dinner, which I gladly accepted.
I now have earphones connected to DAB radio whilst trying to type in shadow of desk lamp; useful typing practise, key placement recognition.
All in all a busy enough day to keep boredom at bay.
For some reason I got the typewriter to type backwards!
Makes it awkward to search!