Garlic and herb chicken tenders, Mediterranean veg, marinara sauce

Not much to report for today.

I got up in time to get mum to church if she wanted to go, which she didn’t. She spent a good 40 minutes enumerating all the reasons she didn’t want to go – the heat, headache, stomachache, nothing to wear, they all think she’s stupid anyway – so many times I ran out of energy to dispute her points or reassure her.

I went for a shower, as much to get a break as for the purposes of hygiene, and came out to find mum hovering outside, wanting to tell me that she wasn’t sure whether or not to go to church. She actually seemed indignant when I told her it was too late for her to go anyway.

The rest of the morning, and most of the afternoon, was spent with mum anxiety-ing, and making herself feel even worse in the process. Tomorrow I will call the GP and ask for medicinal help for her, as we can’t go on like this: I am already noticing my irritation rising and my patience diminishing, and I think carer burnout is coming ever closer.

After the end of the church service, mum’s church friend – who I shall henceforth refer to as Charolais, for the cattle she farms – turned up at our door to give me a birthday card and a bunch of roses. I told her a little about what has been happening recently, and she agreed with my plan to ask the GP for help. Not that the opinion of anyone outside the house really matters, but my having my intentions confirmed never hurts.

Dinner was chicken tenders with marinara sauce, and Mediterranean veg, both ready-prepared from Tesco. It wasn’t exactly exciting, as meals go, but it was tasty.

Now it’s the usual tv until the end of the day, which can’t come soon enough. Then I can use the bathroom, and be yelled at through the door – not by mum, but by Suki, who has taken to hanging around and summoning me back to her side with rusty meows.

Yes, ma’am, right away, ma’am. 😸