Day two in computer past

This computer is not that old. The keyboard is much better, I can actually read the screen, and my tunes sound much better than when they were being produced by my laptop. The laptop's half hearted pitch through its abysmal speakers always came through as a sneer.
"Buy some decent speakers to plug into me you cheap fuck! Bargain basement computer fool, just my luck."
"Yeah, well it turns out you cant sing or swim for shit!"
No response, as my narky laptop is now an expensive aluminium ornament.
The internet is working slow but ok, the email is like a distressed old lady lost in a supermarket, being guided by a kid whose first day is not working out as well as he had hoped.
What I seem to have is an excellent word processor with top tunes, and intermittent communication with a future world its creator did not foresee. Not as easy, but way more productive.

Reconstruction

I leant my mate Patsy my desktop computer a long time ago.
"What do I need that for? I have my lovely mini laptops."
 The laptops are now all dead, all drowned, by accident, by me. Patsy delivered my old clunky desktop back to me last night. Its fucking great! Its a little slow, but it does exactly what I ask it to do. It also has a massive Itunes library, that I had forgotten about No streaming, just a ton of cds that I love, and had ripped to the hard drive over the years. Much like a beautifully designed book that wins out over a kindle, though I love my kindle. This old school hard drive was always full of that I wanted, and has been waiting patiently all this time, knowing that I would be coming back eventually....Old school technology for the win. Ah.....

Abbey x

Beth is down in Illinois, so I'm on my own in the house. I was dreading this, as the house is far too quiet since Abbey's death. Abbey's passing was totally unexpected, we thought she had hurt her back, and that we were going to the vet to get some dog aspirin. Then we found out that she was a lot sicker than she looked, one of the last images of her that I remember was her padding happily into the vets.

Everything  turned awful very quickly, and she passed away with Beth and I holding her as she died, We didn't have to put her down, she was just done. She was an amazing pooch, loving, with her own way of doing things. she was the reason that I was up every morning, at the time she felt her breakfast should be served. One of the horrors of MS is how much time that you have to spend alone, as the world moves on without you. Abbey made every day easier for me, no matter how difficult ieverything was. Thank you  so much Abbey, you rest now, good girl x

Not waving...

I'm now typing away using a keyboard that is connected to my iPad mini. This works out just fine, which is just as well, considering that I drowned my computer using a pint of water propelled by a twitchy wrist a couple of weeks ago. This should be a message to us all, 

"I don't care how much work you've done, how pretty it is, how happy you are with your lovely screen and how pleased as punch you are that you can keep all of your stuff in one place. You are a glass of water from doom!"

Paper can be dried out.....

Pep.

I've had MS for 26 years, 28 if I take it back to the warning shots across the bow, whilst I was LSE. This is a long arse time, more than half my life. I cant remember not being sick.

However, I do remember having a lot of fun, while the nightmare unfolded. I got to do a lot if things I always wanted to do, and do them as well as I could. I had to stop doing them as the nightmare progressed, and once I'd stopped sulking, and MS sulks are epic, I always found myself looking around for something else to try.

Currently, I get to do a radio play, something That I always wanted to do, and I still get to do impro, which I have loved doing for years.

Having wondered how on earth I am still here for the last few years, I have concluded that I'm not going anywhere for a while.

What am I saying? We all look into abyss sometimes, some of us spend our life-dancing on the edge. Nothing is impossible, just really tricky, and it can be brutally unfair.  My advice? Keep dancing, there is fun in there somewhere.

Black Swan

The  past few weeks have been as odd as I was expecting. One of the certainties of MS, is how far off track I get thrown when the weather gets in a snit, and can't decide how she wants to be.

"Do I look good raining? Is that best cold , or confusingly warm?"

Now, reverse that, make everything warm and raining, now warm and clear, hang on, let's be cold for a day. Bugger. 

The coaster rolls on. 

Fooled

Beth has gone home for the weekend. As always happens when I have the house to myself, the first few days are a little relaxed when it comes to optimum tidy.
"I'll sort this all out by Monday night. Hoover, bleach, sparkly, got it."
I get a message this morning.
"I'm an hour out. I'll see you soon!"
Shit!
I phone Beth immediately. She knew I was going to do that, and spun it out for a few minutes, until letting me off with a delighted "April Fools!"
Bugger. I am that easy to read.