Bunny Waffles


In two weeks I will go to Nottingham. I will go on my own. There is no specific intention. I just need to go outside. I have written this in my diary, so it will be happening. The H2 channel has a programme on about radioactive cows. The H2 channel is brilliant.

I’ve bought a Victorian-esque brooch from eBay. I usually attach brooches to my bag, but they always seem to fall off and then I am heartbroken forever, or until I find a new one. I have a new one. It isn’t an owl shape, but it is some kind of shape. I shan’t attach it to my bag. I should attach it to a blazer. I don’t have a blazer. I need to buy a blazer. I adore the colour grey. I will buy a grey blazer. I’m going to Nottingham in 10 days, I will buy a grey blazer then.

I’m supposed to be going to Nottingham next weekend. I’ll be buying a grey blazer, and my plan is to rummage in all of the charity shops. Nottingham is pretty big and there are loads of charity shops so I should be able to find one. Although Long Eaton has a load of charity shops too, and I only have to walk around the corner to get to them. Thursday night is karaoke night on the high-street and Elvis Presley vibrates the walls of my house. We’re that close. I have to get the bus to Nottingham. It’s not too much distance, but it is some kind of distance. It’s a big place. Bigger than me.

I’ve been thinking about my trip to Nottingham in a few days. I’m not sure whether I’ll go. There’s so many charity shops round the corner, that it doesn’t seem worth the bus fare. I might go to Nottingham though, I haven’t really been in a while, on my own. I could get a smoothie. There is a Costa in Long Eaton though, so it is more metropolitan than it used to be. We only ever used to have one coffee shop, and now there’s two. Not that I am bothered about metropolitanisation or post-modernism or how the largest Tesco in Europe somehow doesn’t seem so impressive. You know what I mean. Oh, it’s not the biggest any more? That’s really interesting.

For example, I was going to Nottingham tomorrow, but I don’t like to go outside. It just seems so… I will just try to go to Long Eaton, if that. It’s just so big and busy, I worry on public transport, and I can’t count change when there’s a queue. My purse is so full of change that I literally have to pay with change all the time, but God I hate paying with change so I just don’t go out. It isn’t the only reason. My manager called me a nervous wreck today. People in cafés ask me questions and I can’t hear them properly, and then I panic, and they’ll think I’m odd if I burst into tears over some fucking teacake. I’ve told so many people the same things that the whole world is as bored with my lifelessness as I am. I have baths and drink alcohol, but there’s still Elvis ruining my Thursday nights. If it’s pills or therapy I only have one option, personally, personally. There’s nothing left so we’ll start the list again. I seem to snap so very easily. I’ll try to make it to Nottingham, you faultless cunt.

I don’t think I’ll go outside today. I can’t, I can’t move. It seems easier to sleep. There’s a crack in the wall which gives the house some sort of character that it doesn’t deserve. I’m getting up now. I won’t make a smoothie this morning because I feel too sick again, but cereal bars and coffee are welcome. I’m starting to realise that I’m narrating in my head because it provides some logical justification for the avoiding of my diary entry. I have nothing taped this morning to watch. Soccer AM is on which is a relief as I haven’t overslept ridiculously. My Dad will be watching Soccer AM in his house. If he hasn’t got dressed yet, I’m alright to not do it either. I’ve reverted to the H2 channel but it’s too early for them to be silly and I am disappointed.

IMAG2254_1I’ve finished watching two films now and it’s lunchtime. I am sprawled on the armchair, my feet on the headrest, my scalp buried in cushions. I haven’t yet injected for breakfast. Injecting leads to showering which leads to dressing which leads to being ready to leave the house all of a sudden. It’s too late now to go to Nottingham, so I will go to Long Eaton. Not looking in my diary, the result is expected and stuffed with relief. I will go to Costa first. Before I leave I will need to make sure the bathroom window is closed. In checking the zip on my boots catches on my tights and tears a hole. Is this a sign that I shouldn’t leave the house? Probably. I change my tights removing as few clothes as possible. I think you can see my legs too clearly, I haven’t ever worn 10 denier before.

Screenshot_2014-03-29-15-26-37_1It is warmer outside than I expected and I don’t feel as uncomfortable in my thin tights. I don’t know why I am sitting down in Costa. I have my notepad with me but it would be so pretentious to get it out and to start writing. My red berry fruit cooler is delicious, but big, and cold. The hint was in the title. The people sat next to me are chatting about their gardening problems and I’m sucking down my drink so quickly, trying to un-crease my face from the braced brain freeze position. I may very well be here forever. I don’t know how to stop one action and begin another. I will keep brain freezing until my drink is gone. I have no signal on my phone. I have nothing to do with my left hand. I still have half a cup of stuff left to consume. There are so many people around me. I’m not the sort to take photos of myself in a coffee shop but I take a surreptitious picture of my leg, to perhaps prove that I was there, and to have something to do with my goddamn hands. My drink is finished. My head is hurting. I get up and leave without incident.

IMAG2255_1I could go home right now, but I don’t. There are charity shops everywhere and I will amend my route home to include them all. I am trying to find a grey blazer. The first shop doesn’t have any. I momentarily lose my mind in the British Heart Foundation and find some interesting dresses and blazers to try on. I have unintentionally lost so much weight recently that I have no idea of my size. I collect anything from size 8 to 14, knowing my shaking hands are going to give me away to the till assistant. I used to be a 12, what in the name of Satan am I doing with my selection process? She knows.

I try them on and everything is too big. I sometimes don’t remember how to move. I could only take four items in the changing room, so the lady is standing outside with my fifth item. There is only one changing room and I’m taking too much time to open the buttons on one dress. I hear feet shuffling and know someone else wants to use the room. I am taking up space and wasting time. Because the woman is waiting for me I take the dress from her with false enthusiasm and pass an item back I hadn’t tried yet, and couldn’t dare to, because I don’t know how to use my hands. I want to go home. I hastily try on the remaining items and take sloppy photos. My smile is too detached, and everybody knows because the till assistant must have told them. I question my reason for documenting my journey today. Everything is too big. I am outside the changing room and two women are waiting. I apologise and leave without purchase. I look at my phone. I have been outside the house for 17 minutes.

IMAG2258IMAG2261The next shop has nothing to offer. The one following however is my favourite shop in Long Eaton- the Lighthouse charity shop. Costa’s sugar arrests the anxiety my bloodstream. Immediately a wave of familiarity washes over me and I don’t much mind being stood in the sunshine. The high-street market bustles around me without need for my interaction. The sky-blue painted window panes frame an eclectic shop front display- today a mix of Chinese and Wild West items. A sign declares that they can be purchased from April 16th. That day is my birthday. An old woman is stationary in the aisle but doesn’t hear me as I try to move past, so I take the difficult navigational path over the second-hand furniture. No-one sees me. In the vintage section I collect a few items and move to try them on in the fancy fitting room with angled mirrors and antique lamps. 1960s music fills my ears as I close the curtain. A feeling of comfort has enveloped me, almost completely unnoticed. There is only one changing room. There is shuffling outside the curtain, customers admiring ancient trinkets. I do not feel fear and undress.


A size 8 beautiful black dress with sequin detailing and long sleeves is too big for me. I am definitely not a size 8. I suspect the sizing was different back in the day. Reluctantly I remove it. The pink-orange dress is wonderful, but also slightly big. I remember my boyfriend asking me why I like dresses which are designed primarily for old ladies. In my head I answer that this is why and twirl. The velvet green dress is disappointingly too big also but I am pleased that I have tried it on because velvet is literal, visceral magic. I am also pleased I came outside today and am somehow not surprised by my revelation. I take photos with distinctly more upbeat enthusiasm. My hands shake so some come out blurred. Six deep breaths, my Grandad always tells me.

IMAG2274IMAG2265IMAG2275IMAG2278 IMAG2281 I venture into three more charity shops, including a new Barnardos donation centre which I have never been in. They used to sell sofas here. The shop seems too big for the purpose and many of the shelves are empty. A man enquires about a Coca Cola glass collection. I try on a beautiful faux fur coat in the aisle as there are no changing rooms, but am ran over by an elderly gentleman’s suitcase in the process. I retreat back to the high-street, and eventually home.

I look at my diary entry and tick off ‘go to Nottingham’ as I am technically in the county of Nottinghamshire. I tell myself that it isn’t commonplace for me to ignore diary entries, and then wonder when the last time was that I picked up my ukulele. There were no blazer purchases so I will go to Nottingham next weekend. I will go with a friend. I turn on H2 and sink back into the sofa, my feet resting in the head space. There is a programme on about aliens. I feel much better to be surrounded by soft things and subtle hilarity.

This entry was published on 29/03/2014 at 18:05. It’s filed under Medical Oddities and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

7 thoughts on “Saturday

  1. Anna in Wonderland…

    Brilliant Post

    Amazing Dresses

    All Well Worth Documenting…

    Your Writing Was… Your Writing

    Your Writing Is…

    Ok, enough with trying to be clever

    It’s All Brilliant

    I on the other hand am sitting on Skype at the moment… On the other end of the call my Bestfriend is Sleeping… We are at a Crossroad it seems… I have been in love with her for a year… During which time, her life has been tumultuous… And now that she has finally found her footing to a degree, she has gotten involved with someone… And so our late night Skype calls have become later, because she now spends time with him on Skype first… Lame for me, right? This is True

    But, what do I do? Bail on the Friendship? Though I have been pretty miserable for three days now… My Bro says Run… My mum says just take care of yourself… The Asian Pychic says Honor Yourself… The New Yorker says, he’s been there, be her friend, but avoid details… But we’ve always been about life’s details… My Heart says, I Love her…. My Mind says, are these unhealthy Patterns I’m Following… Freud says, Tell Me About Your Mother… I’ll tell you about my Mother, she Loves and Loved me… But was often emotionally unavailable when I was young… Or rather, she cried a lot, and so I left her alone…

    And yes, the Girls I Like do tend to be Amazing, Lovely People, who are to a large degree, emotionally unavailable in some way..

    Why am I telling you all of this? Because you are my friend… And you’re Smarter than I am, Lol

    I know it appears as though I will have to pull away… But in doing, I shall Crush My Own Heart… Not Just Because I am in Love with Her… But because I will be taking from her Greatest Support System..
    . Her Greatest Friend…. Someone she Loves Dearly…

    Our Connection is undeniable… But Nature appears to be Kicking Our Asses

    Fortunately for her, she has someone’s arms to land in should we part… I on the other hand, do not…

    It’s just not the same when it’s your brother that’s there for you, Lol

    Anyway, enough of all this… Sorry for the segway, Lol

    Just a Lovely, Brilliant Post



    • Hi DJ, it’s good to hear from you. That is quite a predicament, nothing with love ever seems simple. I read your comment before I watched a programme and something they said in it made me think of you:

      ‘Failure is an inevitability. Every scientist was told ‘no’ over and over. The ones we remember, the ones who changed our lives, the Curies, the Salks, the Barnards… they’re the ones who wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Failure is inevitable. Unavoidable. But failure should never get the last word. You have to hold on to want you want. You have to not take ‘no’ for an answer, and take what’s coming to you. Never give in. Never give up. Stand up. Stand up and take it.’

      It doesn’t relate completely, but love is one form of science. I hope the end result, whatever you choose, makes you happy.


    • Lol, Anna, that Second Paragraph has basically been the past year, lol

      I Thank you for your words of encouragement, and empathy

      Yes, ‘Transcending’ has been the Word of the Year, lol

      Listen, I read what Trailer wrote, and your Reply… I want you to know that I feel you… And I am always here if you need me… Swing by my Blog, Email me, or whatever… You are not alone… Your Heart, your Mind, your Spirit… Your Being… Is precious, beautiful, important, amazing, cherished, endeared, loved.

      I know you battle with some things… I do as well… But you are a Gift… I’ll leave it at that




  2. Wonderful slice of life. The first part of this post reminds me a bit of Hemingway. If Ernie actually had talent, that is. All the photos are wonderful, especially the one where your face is large and the one with the blue dress which appears to have some sort of cupid or angel towards the bottom of it, and the word “Heartbeat” in mirror image on the wall next to you. Yeah that one. My favorite of all the dresses also.
    Television is so comforting, isn’t it? Sometimes it’s the distracting droning of it, even more than the content.
    Glad to hear from you again. I need to write, but I can’t seem to bring myself to do anything. Work takes up too much time and energy. And life is just a big weight sometimes, isn’t it? Wish I could tell you something to magically make you happier, but I can’t do that for me so how could I do that for anyone else? Your writing is fabulous, as usual.
    My young British friend that I probably will never meet in person: I treasure your writing and I treasure you.


    • I genuinely wish we could have a cup of tea together. You have understood the purpose of this post so completely, and I’m so thankful each time we talk either in pixels, smoke signals or crop circles- you know the sort of thing. I’ve been struggling with the lack of being able to get out of bed too more acutely over the last few weeks. I can seem to do it for work, but as soon as I am at home my fear of the outdoors grows and over the weekends I tend to stay inside. Even if a get a text from a friend I have to mentally prepare myself to answer it, and sometimes I just ignore them. I’m pushing everyone away with my fear. I suppose the post was quite literal- I’m trying to tempt myself outside in varying degrees. Most of them have been relatively unsuccessful. Paragraph 5 was mainly the conversation I had with the doctor on Friday. Sometimes I feel that I’m not helping myself.

      I wish I could help you, too. I also want to tell you that I know just what you feel, but I’m floundering with words at the moment. I’d do some sort of interpretive dance, but after my excursion today the adrenaline seems to have worn off and I’m getting the shaky hide-under-the-duvet feeling again. I think what we need to do is arrange a time for us to simultaneously have a cup of tea from our respective locations and put the television on purely for background dronage (because this is EXACTLY why I watch H2… the fact that you even mentioned this is wonderful). Et viola: something to look forward to involving caffeine consumption and not needing to leave the house. We have the best goddamn ideas.

      Oh- the blue dress was so lovely (thank you for the kind words!) but I couldn’t buy it on account of the gaping chest vacancy. Me pulling it awkwardly isn’t just for cutesy purposes you know, it’s to preserve everyone’s eyesight. I treasure you too 🙂


    • Good to hear from you. A simultaneous cup of tea, or more likely coffee for me, would be great. I’ll have one at noon my time tomorrow, assuming I’m up by then. It’s nearly 11 pm Sat. night here, Central Daylight Time, USA. I think we’re 5 or 6 or 7 hours behind you Brits; you could probably type it into your smart phone. Really, any Saturday or Sunday around noon my time I’ll be having a caffeine injection, so if you think of raising your cup and saluting the west, I’ll salute the east.
      There are times when I think I should speak to someone about my head, other than just a couple lady friends at work. We get 5 free visits through my work.
      It feels dismissive to chuckle when I hear any woman speak insecurely about any outfit she wears or tries on, but it’s always going to be true, I believe. I mean the inequality of that, that (most) men don’t fret quite so much about how they look in their clothes as most women do. Women look fine in their clothes, in general, and it’s too bad it causes them concern. If I go to some event where I wear black jeans rather than blue, I’ll wear black dress shoes too instead of sneakers, but that’s about it.


    • I shall drink my tea at 18:00 tonight (12:00 your time methinks). I will be at my Mum’s for Mothers Day at that time and there is always the vast possibility of tea. I just hope we don’t cause some sort of time/space implosion with our simultaneous caffeine ingestion.


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