Monday, 15 September 2008


I'm not entirely sure what I'm supposed to be doing right now.

I was awoken at 3am by the housephone's trill ring, immediately thinking it was probably a pissed friend calling the house instead of my mobile. Noone answered it, and I waited for my mobile to ring. It didn't, but Dad's did. This morning I discovered it was Grannie, calling to say Grandpa had had a heart attack and cracked his head open on the bedside table. Fuck.

I've spent this morning working as a Teaching Assistant/Dinner Lady, and this afternoon Dad and I are driving to Nottingham. Dad's sister called him this morning and hysterically shouted at him for not supporting her. Saying he's not pulled his weight. Yea, right... Who is it that has them every Christmas? Us. Last time he got ill she refused to visit because the Grandparents had turned down their offer of moving them into a home closer to the family. In a kind of serves-you-right way.

But from a purely selfish aspect; I'm freaked. As I said before... I don't do death. Noone's ever died. What am I supposed to do?

He's not even fucking dead yet.

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