After umpteen calls to the council, they finally removed the nest of deadly redback spiders from the bus stop. Could the recent death from a redback spider bite reported in the papers be responsible for the sudden shift in priorities? Who can say? Certainly the woman who took my first call belittled me by telling me her three-year old niece was also afraid of spiders. Well, maybe where you come from, dear, the spiders don’t kill you dead on the spot, but here they do, and when I was growing up there was no treatment, and, even now, if you don’t live in a rich enclave with hospitals, there’s still no treatment. So, anyway, the deadly spiders swarming over the bus stop are gone (but I’m still not happy waiting there any more).
Meanwhile, I’m tired. I rarely sleep, and on the rare occasions when I do, I have nightmares and wake up screaming and/or crying. Why my subconscious thinks I want to relive past traumas I do not know. Please, stop, those people are out of my life now, let it fucking go.
Finding it hard to shake it off, though, and I’m hate myself for it. Come on, be strong, you got through it, don’t fall apart now.
Maybe that’s it, now that things are a bit calmer, now I decided to fall apart, like holiday flu, only more soul destroying. Or my subconscious thinks the other shoe is ready to drop, and is trying to warn me (ok, but who is the smiling assassin? Who?). Or maybe the nasty comments In Brisbane re my weight, age, appearance and marital status just really got under my skin which I suddenly find is much thinner now I’m no longer exposed to such comments hourly. Maybe it’s that. Maybe I’m just tired. Maybe I’m just coming down with the flu (it’s going round the floor).