Jacket potato with Mediterranean veg and pesto tuna / baked pears with honey and pecans

Another day of not doing much, although mum is feeling much better now it’s a bit cooler. She had a bit of a stomachache this morning and told me, in all seriousness, “I was fine yesterday, I don’t understand why it hurts today”.

This was clearly not remotely true, but sometimes it’s just not worth the resulting argument so I just said “yes, mum”.

Meanwhile I’ve struggling with my feet being so swollen they look like balloons with toes. As I recall, he told me that, as I didn’t have a name for my condition, he would act as if it didn’t exist and tell me I just need to lose weight. Ever since I have made every effort to always ask to see any doctor other than that patronising sod. 😠

That memory prompted me to sign up to a weightloss app. It started with the usual “the secret to weightloss is… [metaphorical drumroll 🥁] to eat less and do more exercise!” as though that is meant to be a revelation to anyone who hasn’t been living under rock their entire life.

I’m just hoping it doesn’t trigger me into the disordered pattern of eating I have experienced during previous attempts at losing weight. Particularly as I fell for Psychological Manipulation 101 and paid out real money for a time-limited ‘discount’ off the premium version. I feel a bit of an eejit¹ for falling for it, tbh.

This afternoon mum laid down for a rest, which in practice meant asking me “am I doing the wrong thing?” or “you will look after me, won’t you?” every 30 seconds. I mentioned to mum a little while ago that I thought we should ask someone about getting more help for mum to manage her anxiety. She said “as long as they don’t make me feel stupid”, which I think is a yes.

I spent the time playing games on my phone, trying to keep my feet raised on a pillow that wanted to be anywhere but under my feet, and watching our garden rat looking adorable while also being a serious nuisance that eats more bird food than the birds do.

Dinner was mum’s favourite, jacket potatoes with Mediterranean veg. Mum had emmental with hers; I had tuna with pesto. Then we had some past-their-best pears baked with mixed spice, honey, and pecans which, sadly, tasted of very little. Mum then ate the rest of the banoffee pie: I don’t know where she’s putting all this food, but I’m glad I bought mum’s new shorts one size bigger than she usually wears!

And mum is very pleased with her new shorts: because she can’t remember choosing them (although she did remember she was getting new clothes – the way her memory works is a mystery) she’s delighted that I picked out styles she likes so much. I’m not going to tell her otherwise, and will just take that rare bit of gratitude and run with it for tonight. 🤭

1. A previous therapist was Irish and used the word ‘eejit’ frequently enough that it’s become a permanent part of my vocabulary. ↩︎