Today, I have been thinking about the flats I have been to view to date. Most of them are female dominated flats and they usually tell me ‘ After thinking it over, we think we should get another girl in. Sorry! ‘

Any solid offers I have had are from flats which are not clean and run by men who don’t know how to cut their nails or flush a toilet.

‘ Aye, the room is yours if you want it. It would be great so we kin aw come hame n hav a smoke at night ‘

The above is the latest example of ‘ Yes, we would like you to stay! ‘

I would rather live with female flatmates because they are tidy, clean and appreciate the need for space more. However its pretty sad that many think that all men are slobs and disrupt the pyjama parties they have.

So, as I am very tall and have good legs, I am now considering placing a room wanted ad:

27 year old Transvestite looking for cheap double room as I’m saving for the big op. I am very feminine and wish to have cosy nights in with the girls and wild nights out with the boys. I accommodate all. Very friendly, looking to share with females only as they understand and I could model for them if they have Ann Summers nights.

Its been one of those days where ‘If only…. ‘ and ‘What if…. ‘ are the only things discussed. We said goodbye to mum as it was the day of her funeral, and afterwards we spent the aftermath quietly contemplating about recent times.

A bereavement always brings up those questions. They are questions that one can ask forever and a day without answer. I guess it is part of the healing process to move on with everything until the pain resides and the dead become in some way immortal.

People do not die completely, they live on in our minds and when you tell others about them, they are not too far away.

I have been looking around for a flat share. Some of the places I have been are not what is advertised regarding the condition of the double room or the people who occupy the abode. Obviously one cant get one with everybody, but one cant get on with people who lie in their advertisement. In order not to spoil their lies, I wont be naming any names!

However I have a good chuckle at some of the adverts,

especially the ones that contain:
‘ Must be free spirited and gay friendly ‘

Well, If I was looking to allow someone share my place, the last thing on my mind would be the potential flatmate’s sexuality or spirit, so my mock advert would be like this:

I cant pay the bills in my flat, so I have a room that can be slept in for £300 pcm (including bills ). Non smoker preffered who is tidy and clean. I don’t care if you bat for the other side, so I’m gay or hetero or asexually
friendly as long as you pay the rent and flush the toilet. Bring your own Anusol. Flat is nice and clean. I am quiet, boring, occasionally enthusiastic. Oh you don’t care and I don’t care about you!! Just come have a look at the room, and pay me the rent if you want it!

And what is a semi professional? A student who works in a bar?

When I first started blogging, I never wanted this to turn into a Blog about cancer. But I feel that a blog is all about one’s feelings and thoughts. Mum dominates my thoughts every day now. Nothing else matters.

She is fading, and she looks to be fading fast. Within 24 hours of last sitting with her, her skin has a yellow tinge which confirms something is wrong with her liver. She now stares into space, and there is not ounce of strength in her voice left.

I sat and held her hand. There was no strength left. Over the last year, I finally noticed that my poor old soul of a mother was a strong woman who had a lot of knocks in her life, but somehow she walked over them. All that strength is gone now. Sitting holding her hand and squeezing it tight as if I was willing some of my strength to pass into her hand and try to fight what is now a lost battle.

I was not alone this evening as my brother flew up from England to see mum. Due to work commitments he last saw her at Xmas and he could not stop crying, nor could I. We decided not to inform her of the possible cancer spread. We just kept asking her to fight on. She looked at both of us and asked: ‘ How do I fight on? Can you tell me how to do it? ‘

She also spoke about leaving the hospice and walking again. Mum also spoke about her wish to go to England and live, finally getting peace from a roller-coaster of an unfulfilled life since dad left us.

But we knew as did she, that she never meant these things. Even in these last days, weeks or month she is shielding her grown up children from the harsh realities that we have to carry on without the emotional backbone of parents.

My brother said his goodbyes to her. Right now, it IS that bad. She lay there just looking at us, then into space, then at us again.I have not said my goodbyes.

I refuse to even though I am prepared of what is happening in front of me. I told her that I wouldn’t give up on her but I dread going to see her every night before she goes into the hospice.

It looks like its going to end soon. I am not religious, but I do hope there is an afterlife as I want to see my parents again one day at there best.

It is a nice thought that.

Sorry I have not blogged in a few days. I have been busy doing off-line things and procrastinating even more.

In fact, the procrastinating has been heightened into me wishing to do nothing, or incapable of doing nothing. Well that is how I currently feel.

If it’s not procrastination, it is lack of motivation. It has been really bad recently and if I am honest it has been the worst it has ever been.

W.E. Henley: “You are the master of your fate and the captain of your soul.”