Hiatus

Somewhere in the last week I think I fell off the catastrophe curve. Now I'm bouncing and sliding down that slippery slope towards loathsome oblivion in obscurity.
I shall put my negativity down to some kind of delayed stress. Every day there is a new disaster in the family, surely there aren't many permutations of emergency left.
Chaos may be infinite and immortal but there is only so much that remains believable before soap opera scriptwriters begin to watch your every move for inspiration.

In amongst this dance of life my personal health goals have somewhat slipped (a beautiful understatement akin to the British economy being "a little under the weather" in the past few years).
Family obligations trump exercise goals and any diet gets all too easily thrown out of the window when faced with incessant travel back and forth through the country.

Now I'm back at home and I decided that whilst I wait for the next thing to go wrong I would get back on the wagon and take a trip to health city.
It turns out there has been an accident on the road - Irritating Illness, that sociopathic outlaw, has crashed his white van into a container lorry and spilled a whole load of nausea across the carriageway. That's going to delay the journey and make my passengers (self-pity, annoyance and apathy) far too vocal for my liking.
If I can find some services I'll get out of the traffic jam and chill for a while, just a day or two, until Irritating Illness has been rounded up by the police and sent back to jail.

That's it for the self-pity.
There are many people who have lives much harder than mine, all I have felt is a blip in serenity.


Time for therapy.
On goes the armour, bite and scratch proof layers that are easy to hose down and machine washable.
Weapons are readied, bludgeoning items, a selection of hammers, a solid wood rolling pin (great in tight corners, can be substituted for a frying pan if needed) and that beautifully balanced hatchet found by the wood pile.
Stout waterproof toe-capped boots
Lastly it's the gas mask to obscure the smell.
Sorted.
Let's go zombie hunting!


FraidyKat Runs - from poor excuses