Day 483 Monday blues

3rd December 2018

I decided to visit my friend Martin who lives in the wilds of Whitney on Wye. The journey didn’t get off to a good start as there were long delays on the road leading up to the M4 due to an accident on the motorway, and the closure of two lanes. After an hour of utter frustration, I was in two minds to abandon the trip altogether. When I reached the motorway entry I could see the traffic stretching out to the horizon. Instead of turning round I decided to head north and head for the M5 and get off at Ross on Wye, and make my way across country.

I eventually arrived, the journey taking over four hours leaving me tired and a little pissed.

This set the tone for the day.

Martin has his medical issues, bloody hundreds of them. His current situation is that he has severed tendons in both shoulders, so is unable to train (I suspect the reason for his injury) or lift anything heavier than a fork.

They also have a new Newfoundland puppy. I cannot hide my raised eyebrows, as they have little money as it is to live on.

And thereby is my dilemma, he has little consideration for anyone else. He decides what he wants and just ploughs on and gets it without any consultation with his wife Liz. I cannot sit silent, and often my comments causes him to go off on a sulk. His wife is a remarkable lady, she puts up with his tantrums, anger, and selfish manner. She looks after him, the home, and the dogs with little complaint. The furniture in their home has been systematically destroyed by his destructive actions. I often remind him that it’s Liz’s home too, but it’s like I’m attacking him, and he gets all defensive.

I suggested he sell some of his training equipment that dominate the living room, as he is unlikely to be able to use them for the next two years. In his eyes I had caused the biggest insult to his manhood, to even think of this as an option was out of the question.

I have been friends with him for over twenty-five years, I have heard so many times about his imminent death, I have become immune to it. Everything centres around him, he’s not interested in things I’ve done, and even makes me feel bad about being normal and healthy.

I left, just as exhausted as I arrived, suggestions/advice given, but unlikely to be acted on.