Blues. Again. Bah.

I know what it's all about today. Which is a bit of a change from normal, where I'm just a bit clueless. Still, today's blues are hard, since I can do absolutely nothing about it. I just have to ride it out.

To be honest, I've been dreading today for weeks. Ever since the signs for Father's Day started appearing in the card shops. More so than is usual, but I think that's also related to the other things that have happened this year. And how much I've wished my dads (yep, both of 'em) were there to turn to.

I know I'm luckier than a lot of people, in that not only was my real father an absolute hero, but my stepfather was too. Despite me not wanting him to be, when I first met him. Unfortunately, it sometimes makes it incredibly hard to deal with the fact that neither of them are here now.

Funny thing was, I managed to keep the tears away until I talked to my mother earlier today. And it only started when I just wanted to make sure they had known how much I loved them. I suppose it's the thing you worry about most. Making sure that the people you love actually know that. I think it's the one thing I'm most bothered about with friends and family now.

Though, on reflection, it's not entirely a bad thing.

Finally! Success!

Yes, I have finally triumphed with British Gas! Sick and tired of the constant bills, despite not receiving gas from them for the past SEVEN years and mindful of the fact that they appear to have the determination of a pitbull with a bone, I decided to take action.

So, there I was, bill for £853.71 and other letter threatening court action in hand, as I rang their Customer Services line. After being on hold for a good 20 minutes, I finally got to speak to an advisor. Who, much to my surprise, was incredibly helpful and really very pleasant. A complete change to the last person I spoke to at BG and really not what I was expecting.

She said that I didn't owe them anything and that, since my name was not on the bills, I was not legally obliged to pay anything. She also said that she would remove the details from their database. So, with any luck, that's the end of it.

Thank the lord.

Adverts, schmadverts

I used to be one of those odd people who would look forward to the commercial break. Those days are now long, long gone. If it's not Howard from the ruddy Halifax caterwauling like a cut-price karaoke singer, it's Michael Winner being a patronising cock in order to flog insurance. Where's the creativity in that? And don't get me started on those horrendous 'Brand Power' adverts. Helping you buy better, my arse.

There have been some really fantastic ad campaigns in recent times - the Sony Bravia bouncy balls/exploding paint ones, the Honda one where they took the car apart to make a Heath Robinson-esque marvel are both notable examples - so why on earth must there be so many bad ones? The recent Mark Benton adverts for Nationwide are fairly amusing (Hairy Little Cat, meow - never fails to raise a snigger), but then they're shoved up against interminable ones for car insurance or people willing to sue on your behalf because you fell over. Actually, there are certain of those particular ads which make me quite queasy - the ones with the 're-enactments'. Just like a shorter version of Casualty, though without the appearance of Charlie. Which may or may not be a good thing.

Blah, blah and more bloody blah.

I don't really have a huge lot to say at the moment, being as I've been off sick for the past three weeks with another sodding flare up of the sciatica I had earlier this year. I have to say, so far 2007 has sucked. Big style.

I've just been to the loo (slightly TMI there, but just indulge me for a moment) and on the way back to the living room decided to make myself a cup of tea. Spiced Chai Latte (part of the instant tea range from Whittards, which I adore) and I've just had to stop myself from crying. I am so fed up with everything. I don't think I've had a year quite this bad for a long long time and I feel like I'm struggling to cope. I know it's small beans compared with other people, but then, as I keep telling people, you can't compare yourself to other people. Down that road, madness lies (as Yoda might well have said).

I think it's just that I feel like a big, fat, useless failure. Logically, I know that's not true. I have my own flat (which I bought all on my own), I have a pretty good job and I have a lovely family. I also have some absolutely terrific friends. I just keep thinking that I'm letting everyone down - that I'm a constant disappointment. And I can't seem to shake it off, that big black cloud hanging over me.

I've made a start though. My new doctor (same surgery, but different doctor - I will NEVER voluntarily see my previous doctor ever again) is lovely. So much so, that I actually mentioned my weight to him. And he didn't make me feel like a total freak or a total loser. He was just lovely about it. I rarely mention it - even to my family or friends - because it's horrendously emotional and I really worry about not being able to handle letting those emotions out. I can't spend my life like this, it's got to change. So I made that first step. And it felt good. Realistically, I know that it's going to take time and that it's not going to be easy, but I have to do it. Otherwise I'll go under.

Releasing my inner librarian

I have spent all day faffing about here. It's an absolutely fantastic site and a wonderful way to lose hours and hours of your life.

Being a qualified librarian (and certifiable geek) I've been after a way to catalogue things like DVDs, books and so on, but this is much more. You can add films that you've seen (big or small screen), the TV programmes that you watch, music you listen to and so on. So far I've catalogued all my DVDs (100) but I've barely scratched the surface of my book collection (151 so far). I suspect that's going to take absolutely ages.

I've done some of the films I've seen and some of the TV programmes that I watch now and used to watch. I haven't started on my cds yet, so that'll be fun too.

And, in other news, this week has been noticeably brighter than last week. In fact, I've had a lovely Easter weekend just pottering about happily. And my back is improving all the time, which I think helps immensely.

Oh how we love British Gas

Remember this?

Well British Gas are at it again. Or at least, that's what my suspicious mind suspects. I got home last night, there's a lovely note addressed to 'The Occupant'. This could be any one of the 4 people living in this building (in 3 separate flats), none of which are specified.

And yes, it's another disconnection notice. Just over a year since the last one. My gas supplier hasn't changed. It's still nPower, just as it has been for the last SEVEN years.

I have tried ringing the number on the slip, but 'Jasper' isn't answering his mobile. The nice people at nPower said that they must have the wrong address. I just suspect that they're trying to make a quick few quid. Muppets. No wonder people complain about them so much.

Happy Birthday Dad

It would have been my dad's 63rd birthday today. And I would have loved to celebrate it with him. Unfortunately, that's not going to happen, because he died 11 years ago. The reason I say this is because I've been thinking about him an awful lot of late, for reasons I am about to explain.

This year hasn't had the happiest or easiest of starts. My boiler finally gave up the ghost, leaving me without heating or hot water - and necessitating the expenditure of nearly £3000 to get the problem sorted out - I ended up (after laying out £500 in a desperate attempt to coax the old one back to life) getting a brand new one installed, which has been functioning perfectly.

Just after that was sorted out, my bathroom ceiling collapsed. There's a very long story attached, involving one of the stupidest people it's ever been my misfortune to meet, the previous owner of the flat upstairs who really couldn't give a damn and the new owners, who weren't told of the various failings of the previous tenant (aforementioned stupid person - who managed to burn a hole in the bath. Seriously.) That's still waiting to be fixed, so I currently have a big gap in the ceiling, through which I regularly get falls of rubble.

And then, just as I was getting my head round those two little 'problems', I ended up with a slipped disc and attendant sciatica. I have NEVER experienced pain like it and I never want to again. I was away from work for four and a half weeks, the longest I've ever been off sick. I have now been back three weeks and I am still snowed under. And my back/leg is not totally healead. It'll take a long time, these things generally do. And I am making pretty good progress, all things considered.

The one thing I tried not to think during all this year was 'Oh god, I want my dad.' Because it just makes it worse. I think today's brought it all out because my thoughts naturally drift his way at this particular time of the year. And because I know he'd have made it all feel better. He'd have dried my childish tears, given me one of his bearhugs and sorted it all out. He was always there. And frankly, I have sometimes have no idea how I have managed without him. I miss him every single day and for that there is no cure.

Time heals, or so the saying goes. Up to a point, that's true, but there are wounds that stubbornly refuse all efforts, scar tissue that remains resolutely painful. Things you learn to live with. You don't get over them, just accept that they are there. Some days are better than others, so you just have to steel yourself to get through the bad ones.

So there you have it. It's that day again. And I just want to say that I love you, Dad. More than I could ever hope to put into words. And I have to hope that you knew that.