Notes from deep inside the bunker #1

Monday

 I arrived in Castle Cary on Monday. The train was only 5 carriages with none of the usual electronic signs indicating the seats were booked, which they were. What ensued was chaos. 3 rather nice but dim pensioners were sat where I was supposed to be. Once the booking notices came live in the carriage I tried explaining the situation to them but they were either doing their best impressions of Private Godfrey from Dad’s Army or as I strongly suspected, they were the genuine article.

Average commuter to Hungerford

Despite my sunflower lanyard on display, I ended up moving 3 times over the course of the journey as others with a booked seat took their places. I thought they were too old to move so let them off, but I still think they were cxxts.

Lots of good-natured Glastonbury festival goers too - these are the people who will be working in the catering tents, hospitality, and all the other stalls. 

Played our session zero for the new Monday D&D game DM’d by Sa. Short but sweet. Must work on my character’s backstory.

Tuesday

Insane dreams. Nothing to eat in the house. Not many people around Wells who I know. Stormy weather. Hot. 

I went out to buy food, as all Dad has in the fridge is a gallon (I kid you not) of skimmed milk, cheese, yoghurts, and tomatoes. I come back with quality bread, salad, free-range ham and sockeye salmon; enough to keep us going for a couple of days.

Mum is not well. She slept this afternoon. Mum like myself, never sleeps during the day. But in the last few years we both can. It’s commensurate with dementia. I did The Times quiz with her. She got a couple right, but the rest despite my heavy hinting, were beyond her capabilities.

I spent almost the whole day reading - The Times and some gaming books.

I went to Nerys’s in the evening. Ben came down and joined in with us for a bit but he is 14 so comms are predominantly offline till further notice. Tomos the puppy is mad, in a good way. I wish I was a dog.

I drank 4 cans of Clwb Tropica to Nerys’s one gin and tonic.

Wednesday

More insane dreams. This one was about a remote holiday destination in the North of Scotland. When we got there we found it was impossible to return. Other groups were there - all of us in the same large house. They hadn’t aged at all and were wearing contemporary clothing, but listened to music of a bygone age - waving a Tremeloes album at each other excitedly, as though it had just come out for the first time. There were other parts to the building where the ghost of a little girl ran about an abandoned theatre like a zephyr. It was all mental, but better than most films I’ve seen in years.

I’ll have to start rating my dreams. I mean this one was easily 9/10.

I had a decent bit of toast and lovely coffee, then went to town. I didn’t leave the house yesterday and it was very bright outside. I wore sunglasses and kept my noise-cancelling headphones on as it was market day. I felt overloaded - bombarded - with noise and visual information. 

I wanted to sit down and have a drink. I went to a cafe I’d previously written a bad review for. The same passive/aggressive person I’d witnessed serving was still there: so much for the effectiveness of my 2* review.

I walked out (there is never any impetus for speed in this part of Somerset except when driving through country lanes) and went to The Crown and sat outside with a refreshing pint of orange juice and lemonade. Admittedly I have even less patience than ever with my condition.

Trina (manager) came outside to say hello and we exchanged pleasantries. That was nice.

I walked home via the moat and Tor Woods and came back for lunch. I clearly don’t want to spend much time walking around Wells which is the opposite of the last time I was here. I also want to be on my own and find having conversations with my parents difficult.

Funnily enough I was overdue a trough in my condition and this is it, though oddly my typing of this has been rather effortless. Funny in the bar chart of traits and abilities what goes down at any given time.