This is a merge of my 'Wanderer' blog that tells of two years of my three years on the streets, and a new blog that tells of my life after the Diocese of Winchester ripped through my life for for the last few years on top of the previous serious harm that left me homeless
This is a day to day blog of my life as I continue to survive, work on recovery and on the social problems that I have and try to come to terms with limitless traumas I have survived along the way.
This blog is in tandem with my blog about my experiences in the Church of England

The former name of this blog and the name of it's sister blog are to do with my sense of humour, which I hope to keep to the end, which appears to be ever more rapidly approaching. At least I laughed, and I laughed at the people who were destroying me. Don't forget that.

Here are my books, which I wrote for you if you would like to know more:

Tuesday, 26 December 2017

Boxing Day evening

Well we had a lovely walk on the cliffs, and then I came home and did a bit of cooking, I did quorn pieces fried with garlic and herbs and salt, and rice. There was enough for two meals, and I did some eggs as well. I had some for lunch and put the rest in tubs, which turned out handy later.

I was, as you can guess, trying to get down to some writing, but so often I am like an artist with a massive empty canvas and far too many ideas and inspirations, so I was preparing a collection of short articles for a friend, and at the same time I was assessing other writers' short pieces of work for them.
And I was watching films.

Then the phone beeped, could I work this evening? The bad weather was set in by now, but I agreed to work.

I thought it would be a dead shift, we all did, I was the only driver on duty.
The first half hour was dead, then it picked up, went dead again and picked up like mad again.
I ended up doing a full shift when we all expected to be closed and finished early, they ended up with late bookings.

The last delivery had been rushed out, they put the wrong address, wrong postcode, not matching the address, and no phone number, all strictly frowned upon, but the boss was away and it was a skeleton staff, so there was I, the driver, five miles away and cussing because this was the last delivery of three and not being able to deliver it was very frustrating. I couldn't get through to base either.

I had to bring it back, cussing rudely as I did.
They told me it wasn't my fault, well I knew that, but you know how I am, being autistic means I get very stressed about things like this.

But that was the last delivery, and they then got me a hot meal, even though I had been snacking on my meal tubs in the car.

The weather was atrocious, still is, and I have not long got home. Glad to be warm and dry, and about to dive into that huge dreamy duvet and be busy sleeping.

But think about it. I have worked a shift, I have walked the dog on the cliffs, I have been writing and editing, I got up at a decent hour this morning. Quite a productive boxing day.

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