Wired...

Ten hours solid sleep. Well 10 hrs and 14 minutes to be exact. Woke up at 11.23am. This is a record. For some reason I can't sleep in any more. Certainly not at the weekends. Hurrah!

Met Cam for lunch. Poor soul had to work so we had pizza for lunch in La Favorita. Good pizza! I almost feel bad for doing a Victor Meldrew on them after they kept shoving flyers under the stair door. They were very nice, apologised and sent me a voucher as a goodwill gesture. I gave it to my brother just in case they spit on my pizza which is typical really!

Incidentally our local politician has done the same thing. I'm going to feel his arse for it too! And not in a good way! I'll pass on any voucher he has to offer.

As we left, walking down Leith Walk, I saw a man fall from the third floor window of a building. It was like slow motion. Quite shocking. If we'd been a minute sooner I'm pretty sure he'd have landed on us. I can't stop replaying it in my head. He was conscious but bleeding, there was a lady helping him who said she was a nurse. He was trying to stand up but she insisted he stayed on the pavement. The ambulance arrived within minutes. We left, there were enough people to help and a few rubber necks coming over so we walked back to our cars.

I left Cam to go back to work and I went up to see the geeky boys in Maplin, armed with my old (broken) phone to see if they could fix it. They said no, they don't have that sort of cable. The lad who helped me said I could try a junction box but I'd have to do it myself. I figured how hard could it be? The answer is not very and I now have a working phone. I feel quite smug about that. Ha!

Only a handful of people have my number though so I've been ringing myself every so often just to hear it ring. Hahaha! Probably one of these things I shouldn't say out loud. I don't care.

I watched some of the Stand Up To Cancer thing on C4 last night. Quite moving and quite funny... I particularly enjoyed Josh Widdicombe's discomfort. And the lady who had her foot on back to front... amazing! Not only did it give me a dose of perspective, it made me realise that we're probably quite British in our behaviour towards people who are terminally ill or who get cancer. We skirt around it with kind words, perhaps with pity but I'm totally unable to even begin to understand how I would be feeling if the shoe were on my foot.

My reaction has always been uncomfortable when I've found out someone I love is ill. Last night made me try to think about how I would feel if I was ill. Having already been diagnosed with skin cancer, that gave me a bit of a weird reaction. I thought I was prepared but not so when that letter dropped through the letterbox. I know that I can deal with that fairly easily. It's entirely treatable and it won't kill me. My scar is barely noticeable now, even by me. It's not the first thing I see any more. It was for a long time after the surgery. No-one else would notice but you do when it's yours. I'm over it now.

I think I'd rather not tell anyone until I had to if I had something worse. I wouldn't want people to feel sorry for me. In my head, I think things must change once you have something wrong with you and people don't know what to say. They surely look at you differently. I think I'd rather it remained normal for as long as possible.

I'm thinking out loud mostly. Rambling. I know one thing though, if I ever fall out my window, which is unlikely given the only time that's likely is when I'm washing my windows and I can't remember how long it's been since I did that - sorry Mum, I'd like to be as smashed as the guy we saw today. I'm not even sure he felt the impact. Sad but true.

And on that cheery note I'm off to watch shite TV while I attempt to wade through some back blips.

Happy Saturday x