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| Clinging to the peaceful Om of my porch post |
I am completely and totally down in the dumps :(
Last night I managed to give myself severe food poisoning. Ironically, the lady at the shop warned me off the meat I was about to buy saying 'it's not good'. I didn't buy it and opted for fruit instead. I'm pretty certain it was the fruit that did it. I don't think I washed it properly. You get a bit complacent.
That evening, I thought I'd 'treat' myself. There's no food in the house, so I decided to go to La Planet for a salad and cheese sandwich. The food took forever. The guy lost my order, then lied to me about it, and when it did arrive it was all dry and doused in vinegar. It was less of a treat and more of an ordeal. I had one petit Primus and went home.
As soon as I got home, I started to feel really not alright.
Within about half an hour I was vomiting violently: water coming out both ends. It just wouldn't stop, and I was in a terrible state.
I managed to get myself to bed with a bucket, but my body temperature crashed. I ended up with a big hot water bottle (thanks Dad) and huge fluffy bed socks (thanks Mum) and still I was ice-cold. It was quite frightening.
I managed to drift off but was woken by my water tank outside overflowing. Most nights I'd just go outside and turn it off, but I just didn't have the strength to reach it. I rolled over and kind of drifted. It was sort of pleasant, like a water feature, but I had a really fitful night's sleep.
Woke feeling absolutely shattered around 6:45. Went to the loo, then started heading back to the bedroom, where I promptly threw up again, not quite reaching the basin in time.
Flopped back into bed, and have spent the day just sleeping and trying to drink water to rehydrate myself. I was getting the dehydration shakes.
I think I'm on the mend, though. Haven't eaten anything today - just sipping water slowly. I'm not throwing up anymore. I've got some tummy pain, and I'm extremely tired, but think the worst is over - feel warm again at least.
The matter was compounded, however, by my oh-so-very-charming landlady calling at around 9am. I couldn't deal with it, my eyes were like lead. I just let it ring.
Then the Programme Office called. So I think: hmm, must be important, and answer.
A big row kicks off. I'd asked my landlady to fix the water tank in the garden to stop it overflowing. I hadn't heard anything for a week, then she sent a text yesterday afternoon saying 'I will come tomorrow to fix tank and then you can tell me when to come back' -? Come back for what? I didn't understand. As I wanted to spend today packing, I replied to say that I would ask Sonya (the volunteer sitting my house over Christmas) on Wednesday when would be a good day to fix the tank. They could agree a time/date whilst I am away.
But, no. 9:00 she's on the door complaining to the PO that I had agreed to be there. What confused the hell out of me is why she doesn't just let the workmen into the garden? She's done it on many other occasions, unannounced. It's an external tank and the water mains are out there too - why do they need access to the house? I texted her to tell her I was very ill and in bed, but she could let them in. No reply.
Instead, one of the women from the PO starts telling me how irritated the landlady is at me for never being around. As if we had agreed a time/date and as if, previously, I haven't had a job to go to.
Then the PO woman says something muffled to the effect of the landlady is taking back the house.
But, see, no surprise to me. She recently re-paved the drive and did a ton of ascetic work to the outer walls and gate. I knew the minute I saw it that it wasn't for my benefit. She's done this before, tried to get a higher paying tenant after the last VSO, but then she fell out with the tenant and went back to VSO. Now she's at it again, and the PO are giving me grief as if I'm annoying her. Like I don't get home to find random welders and my gate off the hinges, or strange men in my garden on a Saturday morning.
Well, she can shove the friggin' house up her arse for all I care.
I was completely knackered, covered in puke, and dehydrated. 'I have bad food poisoning' I said at the start of the conversation. 'Yes, yes, I understand - but the landlady is very annoyed.'
Not 'Do you need a doctor?', not 'Okay, we'll have this conversation when you're better.' So, to be fair, the PO can go right up there with the house.
I have come to the conclusion that, should she give me notice on the house, I think that might be a good time to draw a line under the whole VSO experience. You give up a lot comming here, and you get this kind of crap thrown at you by your own Programme Office.
Hmmm. The only thing I'd be sustainably developing would be a hernia.
So. I'm feeling a bit better now. Had a good sleep. Going to potter, tidy up a bit, and go away for three weeks to a beach to cogitate, or forget - either or. See how things look in the New Year.
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