Kat’s Eye #84 – “Bleech”


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I saw this discarded shopping list in the wine aisle of my local supermarket. I love finding things like this and getting a tiny insight into someone else’s life. It’s a bit similar to my love of peeping at what people have in their shopping trolleys.

The word-nerd in me is slightly irritated by the misspelling of bleach!

💋

Copyright, 2017, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

Still Here!


You may have, (or, more likely may not have), noticed my absence of late. Today is the first day I have felt able to open my beloved Mac Book Pro and type again.

I have been facing some tough challenges, health and personal, the details of which I will not bore you with right now, but suffice to say they have been enough to have seen me retreat into myself in order to get through the past couple of months.

The lovely OH bought me this last month as part of my birthday stash and it makes me smile to think of how very well he knows me.

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This morning is the first time I have plucked up the courage to make a few notes in it about what is on my batshit-crazed-hamster-in-a-wheel-mind, and it surprised me by actually helping.

I will be getting some news on Thursday that will hopefully be good, but even if it is not, I think I will be ok. I have *Himself, who has been a tower of strength, and some very lovely friends who have reached out and offered support over the past while.

I feel the urge and need to write again, to be part of the blogging community and to rebuild much-valued links and relationships here. I do not have anything of great insight or creativity to share just yet, but I am hopeful that this first wee toe-dipping today is the start of KittyKat coming back to the blogosphere that I have missed so much.

Love y’all!

Ciao!

* no, not god! I am not a believer in magic; I refer to the OH here.

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved

Is It Just Me?


I am sitting at my kitchen counter waiting for a man to arrive to repair and service my alarm system.

“So Kat, we are pretty accustomed to your tendency to share your mundane life but really, why are you telling us this?” I hear you ask.

Here’s why.

I am nervous. I hate the idea of a man I don’t know being in my house while I am alone here. I hate that I feel this way. I hate feeling vulnerable. I hate that it even enters my head that he could do me harm.

I hate that I wish my husband was here. He is an amazingly supportive man who always does his best to be home when we have any people in doing work on the house. This means he either takes a day off work or arranges to work from home. Today he simply couldn’t and that is totally fine with me. What I actually hate is that he feels he has to arrange to be here with me so much; that he knows how nervous and scared I feel when I am alone.

I put it to twitter asking why I am nervous and got a response from a male friend that it was ‘Stranger Danger’.

True.

And, sadly, stranger danger awareness is a very real and necessary thing, but here is the rub…

Would a man ever feel as vulnerable in the same position?

Is this sexist? Or is it simply a reflection of fact?

Perhaps men do feel nervous or scared when strangers come to their homes.

Perhaps many of the women who read my blog will roll their eyes, shake their heads and think, “Kat, get a grip!”. Perhaps a lot of them never feel the same as I do. Perhaps they think I am being a total wimp.

Hell, I think I am being a total wimp!

Of course it is highly unlikely that this poor, innocent until proven otherwise, man will have any malicious intent towards me. He is coming to do a job, get in and get out and get paid. It is pretty ridiculous that I am worried about being alone with him.

Ridiculous, but real.

So tell me – is it just me?

Ciao!

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

Word For Wednesday (W4W) #68


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Play along here!

This week’s word is

Ennui

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How I have been feeling and some explanation as to why my W4W is a day late!

I need distraction. I need stimulation. I need to be busy.

I need to not be so fucking meh!

Someone shake me? Slap me? Give me a kick up the arse!

I will try, my lovely friends, to remove my own head from where it is lodged far up my rectum soon and revert to being a cheerful, productive blogger… I really will try.

Peace out.

*drops the mike…

Ciao!

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

Things I would love to be but I’m not…


Musical

I love music. I love dancing. I love to sing.

I am no Adele, but I can hold a note, in so far as I haven’t yet caused the OH to deliberately smash the car into a wall whilst driving to escape my singing along to Spotify.

I went to a secondary school that prided itself on its choir and musicality. I remember sitting through musicianship class completely bewildered, as my fellow students seemed to just naturally grasp the difference between a crochet and a quaver and effortlessly read sheet music. I never learned to play any instrument, not counting the obligatory “The Gypsy Rover” on the tin whistle that all Irish primary school children were forced to learn.

To this day I would love to play guitar but my lack of musical confidence inhibits me. I don’t think I have the ‘ear’ for it. How would I know if I am in tune or not? My brother in law tried to teach me a basic chord on his acoustic but my tiny hands couldn’t span the neck. Maybe I need a child size one?

My other dream is to get proper singing lessons, learn how to control my breath and all that jazz. I actually contacted an instructor who told me her timetable was full. A silly part of me felt rejected, as if she could somehow sense I would be a hopeless student and I never followed up on it.

So, my singing stays in the kitchen, (sorry neighbours!), car, (sorry OH!), and shower, which provides marvelous acoustics!

Don’t expect to see me headlining at Wembly any day soon.

Graceful

I am, and have always been, that girl with the messy hair. I can spend time, money and effort perfecting my hair and still look as if I had just been dragged through a bush backwards. I see other women who look stylish, put together, groomed and grown up and then there’s me… the awkward tomboy, scruffy little sister with the smudged mascara and flyaway hair.

It is one reason I dress as I do, mainly in jeans, tee-shirts and converse sneakers. If I try to dress like a grown-ass woman I feel and look ridiculous, like a little girl trying on her mom’s clothes and heels. I am naturally clumsy. I can fall over my own foot, walk into walls and trip on my own shadow, so walking in heels would fall under the pedestrian equivalent of drunk driving. I would be a danger to myself and others.

Patient

If I am teaching something I can have endless patience. I enjoy the challenge of finding ways to make a subject make sense to a person. I love helping someone get to that place where the idea clicks. That is fun in my opinion.

But if it comes to waiting for a person to arrive or a thing or start, I am the worst! I value punctuality and consider it rude to be late or to faff about wasting time when you have somewhere to be. The OH is very guilty of this. We agree to leave the house, I put on my shoes and coat and stand by the door while he, taking his sweet time, mooches around finding his wallet, keys etc, then announces he needs to fix his hair and disappears upstairs, leaving me ready to go at the door. Usually, a good 10 minutes will pass before we actually leave the house. I never learn. I always get ready and wait. It is an endless, hopeless cycle.

(He insists it is never 10 minutes. He says 30 seconds. A bit like cock size in reverse right?)

Weirdly, I can wait in line, even if someone cuts in front of me, with perfect Zenlike calm…

Assertive

When it comes to standing up for other people I will do so with ferocious passion. When it comes to standing up for me… I crawl away like a timid mouse, terrified of causing a scene or creating a confrontation.

I am not sure where this comes from. Maybe it is a reflection of my sense of self worth, maybe I don’t feel I am worth standing up for. I tend to say nothing, to put up with being put down.

It is not good, I know this. I know I should defend myself as much as I would a friend or loved one. This is something I will continue to work on.

A good sleeper

I have never been a good sleeper. My sister can fall asleep any time, anywhere and I envy her.

I am Princess and the Pea level fussy… I require total darkness, total silence, the ‘just right’ temperature, blah blah blah. I have an incredibly expensive, NASA style mattress which I adore; it is like lying on a bed of clouds. I only use high thread count Egyptian cotton bedding. I have blackout blinds and ear plugs, (a futile attempt to drown out his snoring). I have tried different bedtimes, hot milk, relaxation exercises, herbal remedies.

Sleep evades me. Sleep is my enemy. The bags under my eyes have bags. I have resigned myself to a life of sleepless nights, curled on the sofa under a blanket, watching strange nighttime TV. Such is life…

A flirt

I would love to be a… wait… exactly who the fuck am I trying to kid here?

I popped out of my mother with a shimmy and winked at the OBGYN.

I flirt with my own reflection.

I flirt with men, women, babies, dogs… I am powerless to resist the urge to flirt.

It’s fun. It makes everyone feel good.

Hey, how you doin??????

Ciao!

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.

Something New…


Today I was asked a fantastic question that actually left me speechless… a rare phenomenon, which happens about as frequently as a Super Blood Moon.

“When was the last time you did something for the first time?”

I was stumped.

This saddened me, as it highlighted just how stuck I have become. I have a routine that seldom varies. I cannot remember the last time I did something for the first time.

This is not healthy I think.

I am stagnating.

I need to push myself and start to try new things; maybe things that scare me a little or make me uncomfortable.

I worry I am atrophying.

I also worry I am too lazy/scared/apathetic to change.

I can list some things I have never done – let’s see how likely it is I will do them…

I have never lived alone – unless the OH pops his clogs, or our marriage takes a serious turn for the worse I don’t think I will ever tick this box. In retrospect, I think I might have missed a basic life experience by going from home to shared accommodation to living with the OH. But, as I say, it is unlikely to happen now. Although I do love the idea of a house next door to him with a connecting door, living together separately appeals very much, but unless we win the Lotto is too is unlikely to happen.

I have never eaten Thai food – I have nut allergies so I am too scared to try Thai food. For the same reason I haven’t eaten a Chinese takeaway since my twenty’s because I fear a stray peanut getting lost in my Kung Po.

I have never passed a driving test – in fact I failed one spectacularly! I aced the theory, (obvs!), but stalled three times trying to leave the car park, turned a three point turn into a fifteen point turn, and the reversing around a corner task ended with me hallway down the road on the opposite side to where I was meant to be. I left the exam room, clutching my report in tears and never got back behind a wheel. Maybe this is one I should tackle again but I think it’s unlikely.

I have never tried a Jaggerbomb – or absinthe for that matter. Am I missing out?

I have never run a marathon – in fact I have never run any distance at all. Apart from kiss chase as a kid, running has not played a role in my life. I am at peace with this and have no desire to feel nipple chaffing, shin splints or aching knees. I’ll stick to walking thanks.

I have never played a team sport – I was forced once at school to play rounders. It was not a good day. Never again. Lone wolf here.

I have never been skiing – the OH would like to and I have told him we could absolutely go on a skiing holiday as long as I get to curl up in front of the fire with a book while he risks life and limb in the freezing cold. Snow boarding looks fun, but still, given that I can injure myself whilst walking from one side of the kitchen to the other it’s best I not risk it.

I have never ridden a horse – Are you kiddin’ me? Have you seen the size of those fuckers?

So, this leaves me wondering what new things I should try…

Suggestions welcome!

Ciao!

💋

Copyright, 2016, k1kat.com

All rights reserved.