On Illness...

I did not make that, but it's entirely accurate to my personal circumstances, except I'm not even half that positive a person and currently hate the universe [as though I ever stopped] on the basis that I HAVE THE FIRST FUCKING FITNESS TEST OF MY ENTIRE THREE DECADE LIFE ON FRIDAY FOR MY FIRST JOB IN FIVE YEARS FOR CRYING OUT BLOODY LOUD.

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Woke up. Prayed for death. Watched 24. Stumbled to the hypermarket nearby. Bought Beechams All-In-One. Drank a third of the bottle. Bought a fuckton of fruit, two pizzas, several large cans of caffeine, and some breakfast cereal, all of which have in common one factor; I can unpeel/unwrap/pop/pour into bowl and devour in one easy movement. Felt better as the meds hit my blood and the caffeine started to soak into my glands.

Bravado aside, cus I currently feel proud of myself for climbing out of my cave and getting to the hypermarket for meds when lesser mortals would've just laid in bed and whimpered, I really, really need a doctor to check my fucking lungs out. For months now if I wheeze on purpose it sounds wet and makes me cough and that can't be right. I think I gave myself flu by taking large quantities of Guaifenesin which reportedly causes, in large quantities, whatever is in your lungs and bronchi to go upwards into the back of your throat and sinuses which is where all my mucus is currently residing.

My current plan is to simply buy some more All in One on Thursday and drank half the bottle Friday morning to disable whatever is effecting me long enough to do the fitness exam. They might find that I'm ill, but a] can't disqualify me on temporary flu and b] it'll allow me to move long enough to pass the running test.

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I just have to make this point again and again:

I can't find a job in years.

I decide to apply for the police as they only care that someone can pass their tests and get their certification, rather than dismissing individuals based on their CV [the military was an option to but I've got a root objection to taking orders for lesser minds, which means pretty much everyone, including officers of higher rank; my personal judgement supercedes any other in most circumstances if I know what the situation is about, so I don't take orders easily].

OK, so I'm taking instruction from a bloody pillock on police protocols [laws, the justice system, police powers, etc.] and the material is disorganized and verbose garbage, but once I reorganize it, it's fine.

I pass the in-person interview Day 1 despite being massively tired, hungry, and inexperienced with customer service by simply being an intelligent and sensible human being.

And now, in the same fucking week, I have both a fitness test, an exam, flu, a long term and persistent respiratory condition which makes it hard to work-out, plus hanging over my head, a benefits tribunal and eviction, with unsympathetic assholes in every position of authority who's views about my personal situation consist of 'It sucks to be you, trolololol'.

I don't think the point can be raised too many times; why the fucking hell is the universe so fucking hard on me?

I mean, it's not just giving me a beat down, it's not just ignoring me, I don't just have social issues to deal with.

It's that if I don't try to accomplish anything, then it's pretty bad because I have nothing, no life, and no possibility to things getting better. I just exist and survive.

But when I try, it's never just a case of a challenging course, or tests to be completed, oh no, for me, for little ole me, I have to have some extra edge to the event in question which makes it a few times harder than it would be for anyone else.

I get intelligence, and a family who hate intellectuals.

I get to go to university, and a course run by people who don't understand the subject.

I get a deep and passionate interest in games development, and live in a country where there's hardly any industry, whilst those in the industry are a bunch of clowns.

So, after I abandon my family, find a new source of education, and try to take an interest in a new career, I then have to deal with a counterproductive factor at each stage; lack of mental focus during mental testing, illness during fitness testing, idiotic tutor during essential education, and so on.

Sometimes I really do wonder if this, life, is some sort of highly realistic game of The Sims, and my personal player is the type of bastard who waits until his Sim goes swimming and then removes the ladder to the pool, then sits there cackling to himself before posting the video on celestial YouTube.

I don't know.

What choice do I have?

It's this, apathy and stasis, or death.

Fighting the gods, mortal death or eventual death, those are the only real options.

I just wish there was a reward somewhere.

Good, good, now you've worked hard, done a good job, proved your mettle, here's a bag of wonga, go have fun on your Alienware PC in your own apartment with your kitters named Deathwing, GG.

That's what everyone else seems to get, even if they've got the intellect of a pet rock. Instead I get this shhhit plus people asking me why I'm so fucking angry all the time.

I mean, why do you think?

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Fuck it, whatever.

I wasn't going to post today but the meds revived me enough to at least do some bitching so I can probably do some more college work now.

Tuesday-Thursday I've got to revise Victims and Witnesses for my exam on Saturday. This means by the end of today I want the Day 2 forms filled out and out the way.

Do those forms and then Week 4 of the college course online mats today then, revise three days, fitness interview, exam, and then online quizzes and week 5 next week, along with checking in with the job center.

The week after [the very start of next month] I have to move out. And at some point in the next 10 days, well 3 days really, I need to cancel my benefits tribunal hearing, which I still haven't done as I've not taken the three hour jaunt to take care of it.

...hold up:

MONDAY: Day 2 Forms / Week 4 and Quizzes
TUESDAY-THURSDAY: Week 5 Exam Revision

WEDNESDAY: ERRANDS

- Cancel Housing Benefits Tribunal by Wednesday
- See Job Adviser for Sign On Appointment
- Arrange acom

FRIDAY: Day 2
SATERDAY: Week 5 Exam

WEDNESDAY: Job Centre Plus Check In

WEEK STARTING 30TH: Move things into storage and into acom

THRUOUT: Apply Week Daily

That's the stuff. My todo list for the next couple of weeks.

I just hope I'm well enough to go wandering on Wednesday and fit enough for the test on Friday, plus I can remember wtf the answers are to the exam on Saturday.

At this point, I can but give it a go.

Going to go add some pictures to http://codexars.blogspot.co.uk/, eat some more fruit, play a lil Hearthstone maybe whilst so doing, and then fill out Day 2 forms whilst not-watching Game of Thrones, which is fucking awesome. 

Adieu.

On Accommodation...

Mornink.

Did a lot of spade work yesterday and decided that being a bastard is sometimes required when the world tries to fuck you in the ass.

Basically I've stopped paying my rent here so in two weeks I can use the erstwhile rent money to pay for a deposit and rent up front on a new room.

The bonus is that firstly I'll have plenty of time to find somewhere new to stay and can move out easily before the deadline of early next month.

The bastard part is that once I've left, there's no way for my former landlady to reclaim said money so I don't intend to pay rent for this entire month.

I don't like being an asshole but both my landlady and her husband are employed, whereas I can't get hired to pack boxes in a factory ['bloody foreigners, coming over here, taking our jobs', racist meme or evidential truth as they're both Lithuanian], and besides, they can wait to be paid back rent [even though I have no intention of doing so] whereas my new landlord or lady will need paying upfront.

I loved staying where I am present. They were good enough people [except for their screaming little demon of a child] and the best leasers I've met since moving into London several years ago.

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My first three years, I think it was [I've never been good at keeping track of my own history, being more concerned with the present than the past, after all, the present is what is currently biting my ass], were spent in hostels, living alongside teenage travelers, who had zero respect for other people, and horrible human beings more like animals like sapient creatures.

Got offered sex by naked women several times [though I didn't accept because I wasn't attracted to them mentally, although physically the word 'supermodel' was tossed around quite easily], and bullied once or twice, which I dealt with easily as I've been bullied a lot in my life anyway.

Biggest issue there was bed availability. They don't let you just book a bed and it's yours. You to book almost daily, and if they're fully booked, you're boned, so for three years or so, sometimes I didn't have a bed to sleep in at night.

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After that I stayed with a Puerto Rican...maybe...who was a giant asshole with no kidneys that kept nagging me about nothing and trying to evict me for bullshit reasons as a kind of hobby.

Eventually got evicted from the room in a large house I was renting after he invited a bunch of new housemates in and then went on holiday without leaving anyone to mind the property, despite having a daughter who could and eventually did do it.

I complained after a week of the mess and the noise from the brand new teenage tenants who were traveling from America, and how the boiler had broken and we were I was cleaning and everyone was showering in frigid water.

He ignored my texts and calls for more than a month until I managed to get hold of his daughter's email address and she managed to arrange for repairs.

After he returned he evicted me.

I cleaned the house up after the other residents. I got the boiler repaired. I made sure it was still standing and in reasonable condition for the time he was absent. And he booted me out for giving a shit about the place.

Some time later I got into an argument with the council over receiving housing benefit I wasn't entitled to even though I was. They contacted him as it was regarding my time spent living in his house. He lied to them about me actually being employed whilst living there and cheating the fucking government out of charity.

One court tribunal later, which he didn't attend, just gave them a written statement of his testimony after the tribunal was advised by a claim inspector to trust his assertions [you've no idea how badly I wanted to find the cretin who claimed that and break them in half], and I was able to prove that his allegations were a load of crap. He could've got me a criminal record and a jail time if they had believed him though.

There's a reason his kidney's failed people; the universe was trying to prevent him from blighting other people's lives. At least that's my theory.

[I said when I started writing this blog that I wasn't going to write about my horrible history. I just realized my actions are calling me a liar, but for crying out loud, when will the punishment stop?]

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Then I stayed in an illegal sublet in a room in a two bed roomed flat, which was a] freezing cold [it was winter, snow on the pavement, and I didn't need to store things in the freezer], and b] had a gas heater in it which could've killed me in my sleep. Plus the rent was like fifty pounds over priced for the property.

It was illegal and overpriced because it was a council property rented to a tenant who sublet it, via her son, to my landlady who was also my flatmate. They would've been so epically boned if anyone found out. I've reported it since I left, because it's not right that someone should be making money off a council property like that, but I don't know if anyone has done anything about it.

Eventually I left that hellhole after three or four months because of a blow up argument with my sole flatmate over nothing very much, whereupon she turned into a psychotic bitch.

It's quite possible that I will never forget the argument we had over rent:

52 weeks per year, 12 months per year, 52 / 12 = 4.33 recurring, so £350.00, for example divided by 4.33 is 80.83, not 87.5, which is 350 / 4. And to work out daily rent at 350 per month, you times it by 12 months and then divide by 364 days to get 11.54.

This I remember because I was trying to work out how much I owed down to the day in rent so I could leave with all debts paid and my deposit back. Settle up, because I am honest and I expect the same. However, she insisted that I was wrong regardless of how I explained it. Either she was just trying to be evil or she didn't understand and said I was wrong regardless to save face.

Whatever really, in the past, but that kind of bullshit gets on my nerves.

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Then there was this place. My current landlady is nice and doesn't bother me at all. They're all Lithuanian like I said so they don't go out of their way to talk to me because they can hardly understand me [AND YET EMPLOYERS HIRE THEM...].

The room is a good size, the wifi is more or less always on, it's never cold, I pay a flat rate per week in rent which can be past due for a bit if required, the kitchen is spacious, I can use my flatmates knives and things, and never have to clean overmuch because there's four of them and they do it themselves.

Well, more or less. The kitchen is usually left in a clutter so I have to move things, but I do the same sometimes so that's OK. And their son never stops bloody screaming his dam head off, which is grossly annoying sometimes. But on the whole, this place was ideal.

But now I have to leave.

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I can be a bit picky over my next place as I've got just over a month to inspect and interview and consider, whilst also having the budget [see above regarding not paying this months rent] to pay for a large deposit which really opens up the options when you're looking for accommodation that'll accept those on housing benefit.

Some people lament the effort it takes to get onto the housing ladder due to property prices.

Personally I'm just looking for four walls, a floor, a ceiling, a bed, wifi, a fridge, and a toilet, plus housemates that I don't fantasize about justifiably killing.

Alright, so there are also those who don't even have the money to live indoors, but I do so using perfectly available social security funds so I don't understand why people do live rough really.

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My final thought for today is that I learned yesterday definitively that my mother is indeed dead because there was an ad about it in the town where she lived with my farther, brother and sister.

She was insane. Illogical. A hater of intelligence. A downer. Someone who would drag another person's moral and sense of self-worth down to her own level on instinct. A liar. Abusive. Chronically bloody ill. And probably responsible for how fucked up I am.

As a creator, not what I would've hoped for, in a mother.

Sir Terry Pratchett, author of the Discworld fantasy series of books, wrote his deceased characters as being very clear minded. Dead, spirits, no longer able to interact with the living world, and soon transitioned into their afterlife, which is whatever they think will happen.

For my sake I hope that the former happened and she saw the damage she caused and could regret it, and feel remorse for it.

For hers, because I am a fundamentally good man, I hope that if there is a next world that she isn't driven anymore by whatever it was that caused her to act the way she did to me.

Never loved her, never even liked her, or respected her, or wished her anything but vengeance for what she did to me, which I got, and I'm not sorry.

But I can still hope for peace now I've settled the score.