Vicky Goes On (Again)

Tag: Life

  • I can’t get no sleep

    For the last 2 mornings I have woken up at 04:30*. In the morning.
    Prior to this, I had been waking up at 05:30. In the morning. THE MORNING. I know it’s Summer but where will this end? Next week 03:30? Then just not sleeping at all!? I AM EXHAUSTED.

    And yes, I know, the heat, I need blackout blinds, I need sleeping pills. Go to bed earlier, later, wear an eye mask, glue my eyes closed. I know. I don’t even really have a lie-in on the weekends, you know. I think I’ve become deranged.

    Did you know that a lack of sleep can actually, literally kill you? Well, if you didn’t know now you know. Did you also know that a lack of sleep can make you fall asleep in a busy office? Ask me how I know… (this is a made up story for humour and entertainment purposes. I swear.)

    So. What do I do? ummmm…


    Sleep hygiene tips:

    • Ensure you go to bed at the same time every night
    • Don’t doomscroll on your phone in bed (shut UP)
    • Take at least 30 minutes to wind down before bed time -_-
    • Block out the windows with black paint
    • Take at least 4 sleeping pills every night
    • Drink some whisky or whiskey
    • some of these might not be all that helpful
    • I’m losing my marbles
    • Take a siesta during the day. This is a human right and I have Spanish genes so surely I am being discriminated against if I am denied this

    Anyway, good luck out there. I love you. I’m tired.

    *I use the 24 hour clock to avoid mistakes on alarms which I clearly no longer need.

  • Washing machines live longer with Vicky

    I’ve become a plumber.
    I haven’t retrained or anything but just call me Mario. My washing machine was being a bitch and I fixed it. And I only googled it twice.
    In my adult life I have become very aware that I am a practical person and I could be really proud of that but I am not. All this proves to me is, gurl I’m poor. When I first had a flatmate she thought that her lamp was broken. I asked, you’ve changed the bulb? (she gave me a look but you gotta start simple. My dad used to be a breakdown/rescue driver (had a truck. You know, can’t start your car? My dad will come pick it up or get it running again) and the number of times the solution was the customer needed fuel is astounding. Anyway, she had so good for her. I said, OK then maybe it’s the fuse.

    It was the fuse and I saved her from throwing out her lamp. And she has learned that fuses can blow and how to change them. Go us! I must add here, in her defence, when I was a kid electrical items were sold without plugs (because I’m from the Victorian Times? What? Why was this a thing?) so my dad taught me how to wire a plug. None of this makes sense. But I do have a skill.

    And what’s lamps got to do with plumbing? I’m getting there.
    I have a different flatmate. After years of living alone the solo dream is over and I now live in a nice flat. But the nice flat has a washing machine that decided it didn’t want to work. Well, guess what washing machine? I don’t want to work either but here we are. Anyway, it wouldn’t spin or drain and had clothes in it and WHAT THE HELL, MAN? I rang my brother and managed to drain, spin, and open the machine so OK great. But then this piece of shit wants to fill with water for no reason. Well. I refuse to back down to a machine.

    Anyway, I fixed it. It’s fixed. I’m a plumber. It’s all good. So, what I’m saying is: fixable things can be fixed by you. Yes, YOU. You can do it. If it’s fixable try to fix it yourself. Nowadays you don’t even need a Hayne’s Manual you can just google it and watch YouTube videos. See, the internet can be helpful still.

  • Feed the birds

    Sit down.
    Listen to me.
    Listen. To me.
    You know pigeons? You’ve know them, you definitely do. I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. They’re good. You’re thinking “feral” and “ugh flying rats”.
    You’re thinking “filthy vermin”.

    Well, shut up. Listen to me. They’re nice. It’s all our fault (as per) and they deserve to be treated better.

    For five thousand (5,000) years pigeons were our friends. ALL OVER THE WORLD we kept them and loved them, fed them, used them for work (sending messages), and taught them to rely on us. And then we abandoned them.
    Because we’re bastards.

    We really are bastards.

    And isn’t it funny how doves are pretty and used at weddings and on greetings cards? Well, guess what. PIGEONS ARE DOVES. So shut it.

    Since learning of the human abandonment of pigeons I have softened towards them. They’re cool. They lack nest making skills because we bred them as pets for all that time and they lost the ability to live wild and now they don’t know what they’re doing and I understand (I overstand, to be honest. And the older I get the more I realise no-one knows what they’re doing and that’s scary).

    Don’t misunderstand me. This isn’t some coming out as a pigeon-fancier post. I’m not going to be buying an aviary and getting racing pigeons. I’m just saying can we please be kinder to the creatures? And, when you go to the park to allow your toddler to feed the ducks leave a little for the pigeons (and the starlings, the robins, the crows, and all the other birds) too.

    The picture (above) was taken at Lordship Lane Recreation ground. I had purchased some “wild bird feed” which the birds were NOT interested in but they flocked for the slightly out of date brown bread which is apparently bad for them. Maybe that’s the bird equivalent of having a cheeky McDonald’s? Well, I mixed the bird feed with it and tricked ’em. So, HAH! I’ll make the north London bird community fit and healthy whether they like it or not.
    This was the same occasion I got sunburn because I was too busy ensuring that all the birds managed to get some food. They’d better have appreciated it.