Round up.

Its freezing, I'm waiting for an idiot, to insist this polar blast must mean global warming doesn't exist. Ah,
that didn't take long. Ignorant fools always bleat the loudest.
"What are you, a weatherman?"
"Nope, I just like to deal in facts."
 I have this horrible feeling that the earth is going to dust us out, leaving only climate change deniers and cockroaches. I'm pulling for the roaches. I can see the last human and a flipped roach dying hand and leg together. They seem to pass, then the cockroach flips herself back up,and beckons her brethren who were hidden. And it begins again. Thats as likely as all the other bollocks people pitch.
Coffee 2.
This week was a little weird. I hit the infusion suite Monday, having got a cab there. Drug was whacked in. While I dozed, I remembered how much I loved walking around London.  I realized I was smiling and chuckling to myself and drew it in. Best not to look too happy doing something that dangerous.
Infusion in, what now? I knew I could phone the cabbie who dropped me off, but I fancied a chinese. Phoned my friend Yury, who dug out his car, and we drove around Gahanna looking for a good chinese.  Found an excellent one, Joy Food One. I know it sounds like it might be dodgy, but its great! Back home, watched films with Yury until I passed out. This happens after every infusion, everything is going great, then I wake up the next day. Woke up in an empty house. Yury was cool, and let me hit the coma button undisturbed.
The day after an infusion is weird,  as my blood spends it settling into a new defense formation. What to do? Peaky Blinders, a fantastic series from England. The first two series are on Netflix, I can heartily recommend them.
Today? Dunno. MS versus cold is always shit, but the house is nice and warm, and Beth and Abbey are coming back from Illinois today. Ah, better clear up..

Morning...

My coffee machine lets me know it can no longer be bothered to keep the coffee hot, by setting off an alarmingly loud beep, a warning of coming, cold coffee apocalypse. I looked at Amazon to check coffee machine was a description that people actually used. It is. Coffee machine? Sounds a little luddite. I receive warm brown liquid from my coffee machine, enter the falling water zone, and battle  yester-smell, and the hair of ill repute.

We went out drinking last night. As with any house or flat you will see me living in, food and drink emporiums are located within 150 yards. We went for an early dinner at 6:30. Things began to unravel drinking Christmas ale. I talked to someone from east London called Lewis, who is on holiday, in Columbus.. I didn't even think it was odd. Its a pub, of course someone else from England is in it. 

At 12 we figured it was time to come home. I've checked, I don't appear to have lost anything. Result. 

I have chucked down a couple of Advil, looking to head the hangover off at the pass. This never works, but its nice to give it a go.

By the skin of my teeth.

"I'll keep eating the sweets, you keep fixing them."
This is not something to say to your dentist, which I did. I went in yesterday for a cleaning. 4 hours later,  poorer than when I walked in, with a numbed face, and a vague memory that something significant had just happened, I came home and went to bed with the certain knowledge,
"Sweets are bad!"
But, I really like chocolate. Yes, but it hates me. Years ago a teacher of mine, Mr Longbottom, told me that he never carried change around with him,
"I'll just spend it on sweets."
Bless, I thought, this man has no self control. I now realize that Mr Longbottom's message was a warning,  sent from the future, to warn the young about the reconstructive nightmare that was coming. Bugger.
I did describe the nice work that was being done yesterday, as being in an episode of the pit and the pendullum, with a lovely smile at the end. So, no sweets then. Floss you idiot! Got it. This would mean a lot more if one of the people working there hadn't said,
"To be honest,  if I was rich enough, I'd take them all out, and whack in a false pair."
Another voice from the future? Lets hope not.

Reset.

 I stopped writing . Why? Because this is the time of year that everyone with MS hates, the move to winter. Once in, and its cold all the time, its a lot easier to deal with. The uncertainty of the day plays havoc with my MS, it doesn't know whether to hit the maximum fatigue button, cripple everything, or just reduce everything to dust. To be on the safe aide, it comes after everything. These weeks are difficult, as they are the time where despair can find a nice comfy spot to settle in.  Winter is always this bad, and living in Hawaii, seems like  a much smarter move.
What about England? Its much worse during the Winter, due to the damp, the Spring, due to the damp, Summer, when its too hot, or damp, and Autumn. Actually Autumn and Spring do have some nice days, just not enough.
Ok, whinging over. On the positive side, I did manage to catch Detectorists, which is a great new show on in England. Its fantastic in that quiet English way, where the awful merges from a sad smile. Its written, directed and starring someone I know, Mackenzie. I don't know if it will come to America, but its well worth watching if it does. Also, look out for This is England 86 and 88, much harder hitting, but is excellent.
"Did you spend these terrible weeks watching the telly?"
"Of course not. I scoured the web for new programs too. I streamed a lot of English radio. I like my terrible news delivered in a quiet, measured tone, and the music programmes are better."
I now get to hit the reset, and figure out what to do next. And despair? Can get fucked.