Other than the soup I haven't eaten. Maybe that's why I'm cranky.
I still want that Four'n'Twenty pie... but if someone were to make me a proper meal I would be happy with that, too. Perhaps happier with Real Food than the junkie pie my tastebuds decided they were interested in.
A rissole and green beans and baby carrots and broccoli (or maybe cauliflower) and mashed potato... on those baby-blue plates we used to have... with the kitchen window all steamed up...
It's not that I can't cook, I just can't cook meat.
So I'm having my 5th or 6th cup of tea for the day. At least I'm getting a little dairy almost every day.
Nils is very anti-dairy. It annoys me how much he criticises how much dairy I consume. I made the mistake of once showing him a doco where lab mice were fed a lot of butter... and it wasn't good for them... and now he makes disapproving noises whenever I butter a roll when we eat out.
Which is not often.
But still. To keep him off my case I lie wildly about how much dairy I actually eat. I don't tell him I like cheese with my chicken soup, for example. I don't tell him how much I can't believe it's not butter! I really put on my toast.
I do admit to needing milk in my coffee, though.
And tea.
...
I'm wondering when the hell my mum is gonna ring me. I could ring her, of course. In fact I'm sure it's my turn to ring her. Just I want her to ring me. I want her to make me feel like she ... misses me? I did ask her about this once, not so long ago. I was manic at the time, otherwise I wouldn't have had the nerve. "Do you ever miss me?" She said she misses the mother-daughter relationship she'd like us to have.
I miss it too. We had it for a little while, for about four months in 96. Then my health problems got in the way again. Literally, for almost a year. I'm being cryptic here. I have to, coz there are things I don't want to say openly.
I want my mum to ring me, rather than the other way around, because I ring her a lot more than she rings me. It's not that I'm resenting the cost of the phone calls - I actually make very few calls anyway. It's not that I want her phone bill to be bigger than mine. It won't be while I still sometimes call T in Canada and V in Maine and Katie in NYC... Which is okay. Nobody forces me to ring international.
I just want my mum to ring me. I want her to ring me because it's occurred to her that I feel so isolated, that not only does she not have the relationship with me that she wants, I don't have my mother "being there for me".
She's not being cruel. She's not doing this to me on purpose. It's the circumstances. I know that.
But it gets so that I don't feel like I can ring her because she's always so busy.
...
But I was talking about food.
...
Hmmm. The last time I spoke to my mother... well, she's been left with the impression H was moving in on the 23rd. And of course I haven't given her an update. Maybe she hasn't rung because she's being considerate - giving me time with H because she knows I haven't had normal time with him for years.
So it's very selfish of me not to ring her and cringeingly admit that he couldn't move in right away because, basically, we were worried K would do something unpleasant to my person...
Ohgod.
...
Food. Food. Food.
Food.
My mother makes nice rissoles.
Now, see, if I would just drop this obsession with my grey sweatshirt I could have a shower and wear something else and go out and eat.
Except I think my headache isn't going to let me eat.
And if I go out and H rings I will probably miss his call.
And I'll be pissed about that.
Food.
Well, there's still a can of tuna in the cupboard. I could have tuna on toast, and another umpteen cups of tea.
Except I'm not actually hungry.
Right. I'm not hungry. I'm not hungry and when I think about chewing I get a flare of pain behind my left eye. I think that's my body's way of telling me I don't need to eat right now.
Which makes this whole entry kinda pointless.