A place to lay my head

This week was an odd week. It had the whole range of emotional experience that left me a little tired. I’m not getting any younger and naps become more and more important. With this in mind, it was hardly surprising that I fell asleep in the MRI machine.

Which led me to thinking that perhaps a good five on Friday piece could be five places that I’ve slept that wouldn’t be my first choice but that ended up alright.

But then I ran out of enthusiasm and it ended up 3. And it’s not even Friday anymore.

 

The MRI machine

Thankfully my father in law had prepared me for the MRI machine. My big fear was that I would be claustrophobic, but he helpfully told me a few weeks ago that the claustrophobia was the least of it. Its the noise that gives you the shits. So I sat there in my gown. Hearing the noises, thinking, thank the BLJ that I knew about that before. I felt like I was on lost. That I would need to enter a nonsensical series of numbers to stop God knows what happening. Thankfully, also distracting me from the noise, was the knowledge that I had failed at gown school and that there was a very good chance that I was about to flash the guy cleaning the clinic. He kept grinning at me. In hindsight, maybe that meant that I already had…

Thank you boob lady

After some negotiations around my piercings I was allowed in to the machine room. You have to strip apart from your undies and the gown, but I kept my socks on because bare feet increase my anxiety a thousand fold. I am laid down on the tray and entered into the massive glowing donut hole. Given that I am scared of both submarines and space shuttles, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to such a confines space, but having my socks on helped. Or at least, they didn’t make it worse. I would have hated to go barefoot first into glowing donut cat arsehole machine.

Its pretty dull in there. I had no phone. There’s nothing to look at. The soundtrack of buzzers that sound like the end of the world, and heavy clanging gets tiresome after a while and so it made complete sense that I would fall asleep. So asleep that I woke myself up snoring. This is unusual apparently

Under a pier

For some unknown reason, in me early 20s a friend of mine and I decided that Great Yarmouth was the place to go for a week day night out.  There is no good reason for this.  If I checked government archives I’m sure that i would find out that there was aerial spraying if some questionable  pesticide as there is really no other explanation for thinking that this is a good idea.

So we headed out to GY on the slow train to holiday hell thinking that we would easily find some friendly folks to stay with as we had done in the past. We didn’t. So we took our selves wretched to sleep under the pier. It was as unpleasant as it sounds.

A fisherman’s tent 

Around the same time of the pier incident, probably due to the pesticides, I developed a frustrating habit of forgetting my keys when I went out. This led to a night in a petrol station, keeping awake by eating through the petrol station buffet. It also led to a night in the park in a fisherman’s tent.

They felt sorry for  me when they came across me as they night fished and offered me their tent for the night. I was very grateful.

I do wonder, though  why I didn’t just get my flat mates to let me in.

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