Post 123: Enrolling in a writing course and anticipating a visit

I bit the bullet yesterday and enrolled on a creative writing course which I can do from my computer. The course is modular and importantly should not put pressure on my rubbish timekeeping or shocking typing speed. There's also no form of exam at the end which is good news because I don't think I could handle any pressure. I also feel that during my lifetime I've done enough f*&^%!#*! exams, I point-blank refuse to do anymore. The aim of this is to try and give some solid foundations to this stream of effluent. Ultimately one day I'd hope to write a fiction or non-fiction book or perhaps be a freelance features writer or some other rubbish to do with writing. One thing that does get me though is the way that a lot of the first module materials talk about 'enjoying' writing. Let's be clear, I write my blog because there's nothing else I can do. I can't read books, magazines or newspapers, even watching the TV is a mission because of my fatigue. Every second I'm not in bed resting, I feel like I'm missing an opportunity to potentially feel better but I never do feel better. I don't know what I'm resting for? I feel like I'm spending the time in bed so I can feel dreadful later, it reminds me of the chorus from that Del Amitri song, no, I'm not a big Del Amitri fan.

'Nothing ever happens, nothing happens at all
The needle returns to the start of the song And we all sing along like before'

I feel like some sort of pathetic hamster perpetually going round in it's wheel, never getting anywhere, it's so demoralising for me but also (and this is the bit that really worries me) All those who deal with me or even read this. God, this blog probably reads like one long suicide note, which I'm very against (reasoning in post 76). This goes back to the co-dependence I mentioned in the last post. I always seem to need a shoulder to cry on these days, when I used to be the shoulder and I don't fully understand why I cry so much these days. OK, there's the obvious, that I've been reduced to a fraction of my former self but as stroke survivors go I'm fairly well off. Like I've said before this is great but can NEVER make-up for what I've lost. Sheesh being permanently stationed at the playboy mansion
being fellated by a queue of playboy bunnies, apologies for crudeness but some Muslims have been known to blow themselves up for less, but no matter, if I felt like this, it wouldn't be enough. Right now, I'm aware that I'm a hard man to please, and it's sadly not as easy as having a word with myself.
Anyway, I need to change the subject – doubtless something this writing course will do more subtedly compared to my usual sledgehammer approach.
I suppose what I am looking forward to this weekend is the visit from friends and legends 'Simon the Hat' and Ian Betts both of whom I have mentioned on this blog, seperately they have always been two of the funniest men I have had the privilege to know, together they are a classic case of 'the whole being greater than the sum of the parts'. Hat has now moved to Australia because his lovely wife Lorena is Australian. They are only over in the UK for a month ostensibly to introduce their new son Archie or 'the Arch' to us poms. I would imagine that becoming a Dad has rather mellowed 'the Hat', at least I'd hope so, being a father has certainly brought out the best in Betts but has not diminished his sense of humour, and some of the email exchanges I've had with 'the Hat' tell me that the same is true of him. Legends.