If you’ve been following the blog this week, you’ll know my body has been treating me like an absolute punchbag. Between all of that, I also had to deal with my Asda Orders. From a numb left arm to a week-long stomach rebellion that required 45 minutes of sheer effort to defeat, and chronic dizziness just for good measure, reaching Friday feels less like a victory and more like crawling over the finish line out of spite. In fact, Asda Orders added to my list of weekly challenges.
But Friday means one very important thing in this house: the Asda click-and-collect. After rationing my comfort foods like it’s wartime, I have officially survived the Great Cheese Drought. Restocking the fridge is borderline spiritual. Absolute full credit goes to my shopping carer, who comes in, grabs the bags, collects the order, and actually puts it all away for me. With the trapped nerves in my lower back, standing up long enough to unpack a weekly shop is a physical impossibility right now. For that reason, they are an absolute legend. Importantly, dealing with orders from Asda every week means life is noticeably easier for me.
The real plot twist this week, though, is my total lack of control over my own consciousness. My body has decided it is entirely in charge of the power button. Last night, I dragged myself into the bedroom and lay down just to plug my phone in. The next thing I knew, it was 7:00 AM still sat up. The ‘big light’ was blindingly blazing all night, my phone was entirely dead, and I hadn’t even taken any diazepam. My brain just hit control-alt-delete and walked off. Oh, and let’s not forget the chaos of Asda deliveries and orders that seem to add their own layer to the week. And it has continued glitching out and shutting me down all day today.
On top of the involuntary shutdowns, my dreams have suddenly come back with a vengeance. Whatever hard reset my brain is doing right now, the nocturnal cinema is fully operational again. The jury is still out on whether this is a fun feature or a terrifying bug. For now, I’m just trapped on the ride. Moreover, Asda Orders always come with their own surprises and twists. Sometimes they match the chaos of my week.
Because my body is currently behaving like faulty Windows 95 hardware, I had to make the miserable call to cancel my son coming over this weekend. The guilt is heavy, and I feel like absolute shit about it. However, it is the sensible choice. He is 14, and he shouldn’t have to spend his weekend wondering if his dad is going to abruptly force-quit mid-sentence.
So, the agenda is strictly low-stakes isolation: obliterating an air-fryer baked potato loaded with butter, beans, an offensive amount of cheese, and some aggressively overpriced chilli oil, all while watching Addams Family Values. Of course, orders from Asda are what keep my pantry filled. They provide the essentials for these comfort meals.
Here is to surviving the week, worshipping the carer, and hoping I actually manage to turn the lights off before I pass out tonight.