oznl

In this week’s episode of “De-cluttering for estate agents” I cleaned out my half of the wardrobe. To me, there are certain similarities between wardrobes and crypts: places we put things that were once dear to us in order for them to decompose out of sight. For now, my terry nappies are in a suitcase (except for the one I’m wearing whilst writing this). It was the “vanilla clothing” part of the robe that was in my gun sights. I pulled out everything into a giant pile on the floor with the intention of using that to make three smaller piles: “keep”, “donate” and “discard”. Interestingly, at NO time during the lengthy exhumation did I ever encounter any of my old underwear. I was sure I had it bagged up somewhere in our robe. Whilst I’m confident that there is still an embarrassingly tattered and rancid red pair lurking in my sock drawer, the several other pairs that I thought I owned but could not quite seem to locate did NOT appear anywhere inside our wardrobe. I can only conclude that my beloved threw them out at some point. I wonder what went through her mind when she did so. Grief I suspect and that she grieved in private made me feel bad. It would have been easier had she taken the opportunity for some passive-aggressive cattiness which would have anesthetised my guilt nicely. There were dozens of business shirts to be discarded: tightly compressed together through the three full summers dripping with heat and humidity in close storage with nary a corporate conference to be seen in, they had discoloured and mildewed . More victims of the career-killing pandemic. Much rack space however was consumed by a startling collection of dress pants and jeans. Mysteriously, these had survived the mould onslaught perhaps if for no other reason than their dark colours resisted discolouration. The reason for the abundance of pants was clear enough to me. When I went back into nappies full-time, I quickly realised that this was both a literal and metaphorical stretch for my pants, especially as I quickly evolved towards the strategy of wearing fewer, much higher capacity nappies. With the bulk came not only less leaks, but more comfort, the avoidance of high-risk in-office nappy changes (they simply lasted all day) and even savings. It turns out that two decent nappies cost less than four rubbish ones. Money being less of an object back then, I solved the bulk problem by simply upsizing all of my favourite jeans and dress pants to a larger, more nappy-friendly size. Fast forward to the present and there I was kneeling in a wardrobe surrounded by two pairs of nearly everything: a pre-nappy size and another nappy-sized version whilst looking for de-cluttering opportunities. My initial reaction was to take them down in bags and store them in our workshop but I recognised this prevarication for what it was. That workshop was already groaning under the weight of numerous previous non-decisions. My rational brain roared at me “They’re perfectly good clothes! Half of those have hardly been worn!” and more tellingly, “What will you do if you change your mind about nappies?” I marvelled at my ability to rationalise away the obvious along with my almost maniacal efforts to keep an exit open that is now well more than 5 years behind me. I hope the new owners of my dress pants and jeans enjoys them. They are indeed in excellent to near-new condition. I only apologise that they probably won’t fit over nappies. I’ll be staying in nappies myself for now and thick ones at that. Otherwise all my pants will be too big.

I can recommend "shapewear" (sold in some jurisdictions as "Spanx") over the top of a nappy to help keep it visually discreet and where it ought to be. I also habitually use a light PUL waterproof pant between my nappy and my outerwear which avoids any "puppy pad" requirements. My use of night nappies significantly improved my quality of sleep (which is still not great, just better than it was). I honestly think even many "vanilla" people could buy in to this idea if only they could get past their own psychological barriers. To be honest, with the cold nights here recently (it's winter in my part of the world), they've been brilliant. I *do* use a heavier night nappy though and even wear a terry-lined waterproof over the top of it as I've found most adult disposables eventually leak in bed. It looks pretty toddler-ish but I don't think it matters in bed. There is the chance that (eventually - it took quite a while for me) that you'll develop bedwetting on this path (assuming you migrate to a nappy system that you can trust in bed and so become subconsciously comfortable with the idea). I suspect you'll know whether you want that or not well before that arrives. When I started out, I thought I'd be horrified and stop wearing if I wet the bed. By the time it actually first happened (at least to the extent where I was sure it happened), I found myself curiously ok with it. Now it's a semi-regular thing and I cannot NOT wear my nappy to bed.

The brevity of this week’s update is due to the all-consuming series of tasks triggered by preparing our home for sale. I finally managed to leak in my BeDrys this week. First time I think I peed in it laying on my side in bed. I can’t remember doing that so I assume I was asleep when it happened. A little bit came out the top near my left hip. Annoyingly, that bit had also managed to peek out above my terry-lined plastic pants so it was the elastic on my pyjama pants that saw the action instead of waterproof-covered terry towel. It was pretty minor. The second failure was similarly miniscule: this time there was a minor wicking leak where the top of my BeDry nappy at my crotch had overturned itself to expose a little bit of wet padding to my pyjama elastics (again, bypassing my terry-lined waterproofs due to the relatively high crotch line of the BeDry). It’s possible I could downsize to a “Large” instead of my current “XL” but with Rearz, the recent rejigging of their sizes has me cautious of the large size. My all-too-ample girth is at the top of the large range but the bottom of the XL. At least I enjoy the faint flattery of wearing my BeDry XL on the very smallest of the available tape landing markers. My commitment to the Rearz BeDry remains unwavering despite these damp spots on my pyjama elastics. I’ll just be more careful putting them on. I picked up another case of them this week so now I have 5.5 packs laying around along with two unopened cases of Rearz Inspire+ Mega. This was because this weekend looks like it will be spent with me clad entirely in disposables and next weekend is looking similar. The whole business of washing pee-soaked terry nappies is going to have to take a back seat for a while. So might updates here. By this time in a fortnight my study (my domain and my refuge) will likely have been dismantled to be replaced by a fake bed and artfully arranged dried flowers. I’m not entirely sure where I’ll hide all those disposables. I’m still thinking about that. On Tuesday we had an estate agent do a room by room inspection. The idea is that the agent tells us how to “dress” our house for sale so that they can presumably get their commission quicker. The inspection was a little more intrusive than I‘d expected. I’d already started to hide away the various clues that I live in nappies that are around the house but even so… Whilst inspecting my study, she flung open the wardrobe door (this is my nappy cupboard) with no warning at all to see if my filing cabinet might be hidden in it (in real estate world, people can’t imagine things like filing cabinets in houses, or rooms that don’t contain beds covered in throw rugs and pillows). My beloved, who was standing just off to my side stiffened visibly at the flinging of the door. Due to her angle however, she could not see what the agent saw, just the recently flung-open door. Nevertheless, she collared me swiftly after the agent had left: “So, did she cop an eyeful of your nappies in there?” No she did not. As it happened, I’d taken the unopened cases down to the workshop outside and the loose ones I’d stuffed into black bin bags. She copped an eyeful of full-ish black bin bags. She probably merely thinks I’m a hoarder. This triggers an interesting thought experiment: would my beloved rather that the estate agent think I was a hoarder or was incontinent? It was a close call though: two days earlier she’d have encountered piles of Abena, BetterDry and Rearz and maybe even a couple of pairs of plastic pants airing out on coat hangers above them like some kind of nappy-wearing flags. Theoretically, in 90 days or so, this will all be done and I’ll be unemployed by the seaside. I’m still trying to decide what I think about all of this but it seems the metaphorical train has left the station.

I change disposables standing up. I find it quicker and easier. I hold the fresh nappy in place by having it positioned between my bum and a door or wall. I then do the bottom tapes followed by the top tapes. Cloth nappies I'll change laying down.

I’ve learned that crafting good prose is incredibly time consuming. I learned that by reading accounts from good authors. I’ve also learned that crafting mediocre prose is also very time consuming. I’ve learned that by doing it. For me, it’s less about finding things to write about and more about finding the time to write about them. Less time equals even worse prose. Cue my recent installments. Even with dialing back my updates to typically weekly, I doubt Dostoevsky has anything to worry about. The main thing is we’re still transmitting: more than 5 years later. Who’d have thunk it?

The new BeDry (day weight) continues to impress. I’ve been wearing one to bed every night this week instead of my usual new, all-unimproved “Not Quite As BetterDry”. Reaching the far side of the working week I realised that my terry-lined plastic pants that I wear over my disposable night nappies have remained minty-fresh and don’t really need washing. This is hard evidence in favour of the BeDry. Almost invariably there’d be at least a minor yellow-patch somewhere in them by the time I switch back to cloth night nappies on Thursday night after a week of BetterDry but not this week it seems. The week also included at least one night where I “properly” bed-wetted in a BeDry. Bedwetting in disposables always comes with elevated leakage risk because either I’m too asleep to consider the finer nuances of safe in-bed adult nappy usage such as positioning or, I’m dreaming my way through episodes of nappy usage where my own subjective understanding of my orientation in time and space has little to do with objective reality. I’ve mentioned before that I’ve somewhat lost insight into my bedwetting. I’m wet every night anyway and I’ve become quite forgetful about episodes of urination but on the night in question, I’d had a very solid night’s sleep, zero recollection of peeing outside of a protracted, and truly bizarre “pee dream” that seemed to run like some kind of urine-themed soap opera in instalments over most of the night. Based as they are upon my life, it’s probably unsurprising that my dreams make little sense but this one really deserved the Golden Cheese Badger prize for surrealism. I’m not even going to attempt to describe it (well, not without persuasion) but suffice to say, in it I was going my dreamscape near-permanently dripping and dribbling in my pants, quietly amazed about the unending font of consequence-free pee that emanated from within. The net of it was that I’d greeted the dawn to discover myself wearing a suitably-soaked BeDry and an empty bladder. It seemed logical to conclude that my bladder had spent the night running on automatic. Becoming aware of the “bum in a tepid birdbath” sensation, I’d rather assumed that I’d cashed in my leak insurance policy pants. At change time however, much to my amazement, my terry-lined plastics were perfectly dry. My “BeDry” however was bloated, yellow and it felt like I was wearing a plastic bag filled with warm, pee-flavoured jelly in a manner that reminded me of old “ABU” product that I quite enjoyed until shipping spiralled towards NASA level costs. It had NOT leaked however: a feat made even more remarkable due to the high probability it had seen some side-sleeping pee-action. I was quite aware I was wet though. Whilst not quite a cloth levels of with respect to tactile humidity clues, the BeDry feels wet when it is wet. It’s not at all uncomfortable though. I had to know for sure. Misuse of the kitchen scales ensured. Weighing in at 1680g, it had successfully trapped and contained around 1.5 litres of my fine salty ale. The key word here is “contained”. The “Not Quite As BetterDry” edition can easily deal with 1.5 litres of whizz so long as it doesn’t blow-out (a new BetterDry party-trick) but it’s the “containment” side of things has become elusive with them of late. With daylight between them price-wise, it’s difficult to see how the BetterDry won’t get voted off the island in favour of the BeDry. I’m already looking at my last two bags of not-quite-as-BetterDry and wondering if I should just wear them during the day at weekends since it’s likely that cloth nappies will soon have to take a back seat for a while. At least whilst there are estate agents traipsing through my bedroom.

For those who wear diapers to bed all the time, do they make it all the way through the night without leaking or do you sometimes wake up and have to change in the middle of the night? Let’s just say that 98% of the time, my bedding is dry around me. Around 10 – 15% of nights, there’s been a minor leak that’s been caught by my insurance policy garment. Which brand of diapers do you wear to bed that do last all night, and are there any brands that you have used that seem to leak before morning more than others? For disposables: BetterDry but I’m experimenting with BeDry day weight. I know Inspire+ Mega are awesome overnight but they are overkill. Cloth is awesome in bed and practically bullet-proof. I’ve found the Abena L4 to be fairly useless in bed (it falls off me) and to be honest, most medical grade diapers have been a bit rubbish. They need to be used in bed “carefully” and as I’ve reverted to occasional bedwetting, that doesn’t happen anymore. Do you put a fresh diaper on just before going to bed, or do you sometimes go to bed already a little wet? Generally no. I change twice per day and my “evening” change is usually around 6:30 – 7pm. Consequentially, I’m usually a little wet by bedtime. Even if I’ve changed only shortly before bed (unusual), it’s very hard for me to stay dry when brushing my teeth: the running tap water seems to do it every time. On average, how many hours do you sleep a night? 6, 7, 8 or more? Do you use any boosters in your diapers to help make it though the night without leaks? On work nights, about 6 - 7 hours maximum. On the weekends, I will try to take that up to 8 or even 9 hours. I’ve had mixed results with boosters. I have used them on nights when I’m drinking to deal with increased duty cycle but I suspect sometimes, they can move around inside my diaper and compromise the leak guards. I've noticed wet terries a few times on boosted diapers where there is plenty of capacity left in my diaper. Are you a heavy night wetter or average? I measured for some months once. Night output is lower (as you’d expect): typically 850ml to 1100ml but there have been “outlier” nights as much as 1500ml. It's largely a function of hydration. If you do make it all night without leaks, how much longer will your diaper last before having to change it? If it’s just a BetterDry or similar, not long and I change on arising. A good cloth diaper can easily be dealt with after breakfast at least. If it’s something a little more “recreational” (eg: Rearz Mermaid Tale), that can easily run through to lunchtime the next day. It usually starts to just annoy me and I change rather than it leaking. Do you ever wear plastic pants over your night diaper to help prevent the bed from getting wet if your diaper does leak some? Do they help? Yes and yes. I wear terry-lined plastic pants to catch the almost-inevitable intermittent night time leaks that are part of adult disposable diapers. Just curious what works best for people who go to bed diapered. Are you planning on making the switch? 🤣

It's annoying I agree. Furthermore, the whole nocturnal-teepee-construction thing has been known to contribute towards leaks if I'm in disposables (I will end up pointing the wrong way and as I'm an intermittent bedwetter, I may not be aware of this when I pee). As @DAQ says, a bit of barrier cream helps. If you're permanently diapered you should be using that anyway. I use sudocrem which mostly works.

I can recall sperm count being linked with tight jeans back in the late 1970s (when such garments were fashionable). The culprit was elevated crotch temperature which corresponds with a few folk's comments here. It would be reasonable expect diapers to have the same effect (assuming 24/7 use) although declining sperm count is very much a human condition these days. The neuro-divergent course of action here would be to ditch the diapers and just pee in your pants. This not only removes the source of the problem but provides a countermeasure therapy: evaporative cooling. I'll leave @nareh60280 to work out the logistics of that strategy 🤣

My usual weekend/daytime “hanging around the house” gear has been an Abena L4 turbo-charged with a “Lifx” booster pad. This and some PUL waterproofs for the inevitable leaks and a compression pant to (try) to keep the whole affair in place is a combo selected more through simple availability rather than any particular enthusiasm. I obtained quite a number of loose packs of the Abena L4 and at as few as two nappies per week consumption (weekend days), those few cases have lasted quite a long time. In reality, the Abena L4 (which I’ve reviewed before) is a very comfortable and capable adult nappy for a brief period of time before their cloth-like outer liner stretches and sags along with all-to-frequent tape failure. Then, for the rest of their shift, they’re just annoying. Of course I don’t simply “hang around” the house on weekends anymore. I nobly sacrifice every weekend in its entirety to the god of real estate by working my way through a seemingly endless list of minor maintenance and renovation issues that whilst not important enough to do for my own pleasure, seem to be of great weight in the context of a spring time house sale in several weeks. Saturday’s Abena was particularly annoying. A later-than-usual but ominously-urgent call from the #2 department saw me only just make it to the toilet on time, sliding down my already-damp Abena/booster around 11am to defend it from a horrific end. Sliding a partly-wet Abena L4/booster back UP my thighs simply fast-tracked it’s inevitable failure. Having tasted freedom, that Abena wanted OFF of me. I spent the next few hours near-constantly hauling up my padded britches from sliding down inside my jeans. I was soggy and uncomfortable. In fact, my nappy was simply annoying. I would have liked to take it off. The problem was that I’d had two cups of coffee with breakfast and consequently, I was getting strong pee urges every 15 minutes or so that resulted in wetting episodes that of themselves were far from floods, were vitally necessary and could on no account be deferred. If I wasn’t able to just pee in my pants, I’d be running inside 3 – 4 times every hour. I’m not incontinent but it does seem that I’m quite dependent on nappies now. These are the silly prizes we win for ourselves. Whilst trying not to bend over to retrieve a dropped tool I had a moment of epiphany: my droopy drawers were seriously limiting my domestic work pace. I was spending as much time trying to rearrange my failing wet underwear as I was painting doors and things I’d dropped, tended to stay on the floor because bending down in those nappies would simply precipitate another sartorial remediation session. I needed something more, robust… So this week I bought a case of the new Rearz “BeDry”. Just the “day” version mind you. I was looking for something that could handle a spot of yardwork by their wearer without heading for his ankles rather than a 24 hour hyper-nappy that would weigh as much as a dead Doberman by the time you’d fully utilised it. They had to be (relatively) inexpensive too. Let’s face it: I was planning on peeing in them before throwing them away. Being the “medical/incontinence” brand in the Rearz stable, the BeDry featured exactly zero cute barnyard cartoon animals and the packaging was suitably sober, sporting the usual head and shoulders photos of silver-headed not-as-old-as-you’d-think, better-looking-than-you couples smiling lovingly at one another with the kind of knowing tint that only the shared secret of whizzing in their pants can bring. The BeDry nappies themselves were surprisingly thin. Roughly 195 grams dry weight (there was some variance from sample to sample) they were even thinner than the recently-retired “Rearz Incontrol Elite Hybrid” (aka: “Barry”). The form-factor was similar to the “Elite Hybrid”, even thinner if possible. The tapes however were of the Inspire-style “Tape/Landing zone” variety rather than the original Hybrid “hook and loop”. Like the Inspire+, those tapes release like a bee’s stinger: gripping so strongly that they tend to take their hosts’ entrails with them upon their dparture. Visually, they looked like the love child of a Rearz Inspire and a Rearz Barry that had been on the Ozempic for a while. They were SO thin, I worried if they were match ready. The BeDry’s claimed absorbency was 7500ml but I’d automatically discounted that as the kind of mindless and untrustworthy optimism of marketing elves that inevitably precedes disappointment. I wore one for a day of yardwork. It didn’t leak. It didn’t fall down. I didn’t spend the day cursing it and wondering why I’d given up toilet training. It was night versus day in comparison with my sagging Abena experiences. All in all, it was a pretty comfortable garment to pee in all day. Part of the reason it didn’t leak though was because I didn’t use it much. It’s amazing what yardwork does to mute urine production. It definitely however exhibited the kind of structural integrity that we come to expect from Rearz. It was as nearly as good as the classic “BetterDry” until they were “improved” (google: “Verschlimmbesserung” Thrust-Vector corporation and marvel at the genius of the German language). Despite their svelte outline, those BeDry didn’t leak at night either. I’ve worn them every night this week and statistically, that means I’ve likely bedwet in them a couple of times. To be fair, the most overnight action they’ve seen is a bit over 1100ml (which again, isn’t really that much) but my slightly-less-BetterDry had taken to leaking (albeit very small amounts) into my terry lined trainers nearly every night under presumably-similar usage. Due to the BeDry (day) thinness, they probably aren’t going to tick so many ABDL boxes. They resemble little more than thick white underwear. Despite this, they do seem to cope surprisingly well for in-bed use despite their being a separate (and markedly more expensive) “night time” version. They do swell in a “bag of warm, pee-flavoured jelly” kind of way. Could they replace my not-quite-so-trusty Abena L4/booster combo? Absolutely. Arguably they should. Even price is no longer a barrier against leaving the “medical” brands behind. Since the great plague, the war in Ukraine, the preponderance of 100%-subsidised-by-Government users and the general enshitification of everything, Abena products went a bit aspirational in the pricing department down here. When I started out, a packet of 12 Abena L4 cost $32.10. The packets today have since gotten bigger, there are now 18 nappies in a packet of Abena L4. On the other hand, the price per packet has gotten even bigger: MUCH bigger. The local price of an 18-pack of Abena L4 is (are you sitting soggily?), an eye-watering A$66.40 (USD 46.48): 50% more nappies per pack certainly but 102% more dollars. This takes the humble Abena L4 into a “Lifestyles of the rich and famous” A$3.68 per nappy versus around A$3.12 per nappy for the BeDry (excluding shipping). I will not only spend less money (the word “save” hardly seems to apply in this kind of scenario) but I’m more likely to have dry ankles and not have to haul my underwear back up my hips every 90 seconds a few hours after donning the BeDry as opposed to the Abena, or even the not-quite-so-BetterDry that is sold today.. It looks like when I eventually chew through the remaining bags of Abena and Not-quite-so-BetterDry, I’ll be 100% Rearz-equipped. I wonder what rhymes with “single point of failure”?

For the first coat I used was a greyish primer/sealer which did help a lot. The red room was kind of ok but that purple was like a bad Burrito, it just kept on coming back at you 🤣 It's gone now but the rooms are smaller because all the walls are about 3mm thicker with paint! Sigh, yes... They are remarkably expensive (around $250 per month for less than half a garage) in our area and the other problem is that you've seen our collection of amazingly practical load-carrying cars. I'm just not sure how much furniture is going in them. I know I can hire vans etc. but I'm trying to keep a lid on the cash burn rate here.

I don't know how this trick works but it absolutely is a thing. I'm wondering if we can add "incomplete voiding" to the pantheon of dysfunctions we are inflicting upon ourselves with this silly venture since I refuse to believe that kidneys can filter with that kind of velocity. No matter how empty I think my bladder is, standing at a running tap will automatically generate a pee urge. It's not only teeth cleaning. Filling up the morning coffee pot will invariably result in another (albeit small) filling-up event in my nappy. Trying to stop it takes me immediately to the "clutching at myself and pee-dancing" level of urgency (so I don't bother of course). I honestly doubt my capacity to hold it. Twice I have done this now. Bedwetting doesn't care about circumstance, timing or dignity it seems. I actually marvel that you don't wet the bed (as in, make bedding wet) more than you do. In the context of bedwetting, I find adult disposable nappies to be at best fragile in their capabilities here. I've cashed in on my terry-lined insurance policy waterproofs many, many times.

When we moved to this place, as a strategy for buying off my kids' angst, I told each of my two kids "I'll paint your bedrooms the colour of your choosing". For anybody who wants to know how many coats of low sheen white acrylic it takes to erase a purple bedroom, the answer is "4 coats". A fire-engine-red room can be erased in as little as 3... Ah, not a problem. We live in a "cul de sac" (translation: "arse of bag") and we know all our neighbours. We have "street drinks" pretty much every other Sunday so we've all seen each other's houses anyway 🤣

I don't buy that 🤣 That kind of stuff doesn’t get forgotten by parents. It just gets pushed up to the back of the “too hard” shelf in their mental closets. I don’t know your parents. Maybe they are rampantly “anti” but let me share one thing from the other side of the generational line: do not underestimate how hard these decisions can be on them as well. That’s not necessarily a function of bigotry. What’s happening here is a tectonic shift in a core family identity that relies upon them “unlearning” an awful lot of shared heritage. They've known you longer than YOU'VE known you. Your parents may well also be frightened for YOU. You of all people will know that a trans life can be a lot harder and most parents don’t want their kids life to be hard, especially if they grew up at a time where intolerance was much stronger. The stats are what they are. When you look at it that way, some push back may well be (in their view), supportive. At the very minimum, they're going to want to be convinced that this is CERTAIN and not some kind of temporary fugue before getting behind you. You've absolutely got the right to be you. No argument from me, especially at your age. It may well also be that your parents have religious or social intolerances that are for them, insurmountable and if that's the case, that's going to be sad for everybody. On the other hand, the situation MAY not be what you think it is and if you can give them some space, whilst holding your line on personal autonomy, they'll (eventually) re-calibrate and you'll have family backing you. This isn't a forum area I'm usually seen in but it popped up on my home page feed and happens to be something I have some lived experience with...

It’s been one of those weeks where I’ve finished struggling to find anything positive about it. The monstrously complex “house sale” project grinded forth only fractions of a millimeter yet managed to make all of us irritable and miserable. My beloved and I had a blazing row about it on Tuesday night. It was actually more a blazing meta-row. Instead of fighting about the house sale itself, the dispute arose from my general lack of mindless optimism with respect to it as I flounder under the endless, interlocking morass of tasks and dependencies it has engendered, all of which seem to be attracted by some mysterious gravitational force to my shoulders alone. I’d returned home from a day at work to start more work, reluctantly realising the estate agent’s latest brain-fart preparation-for-sale idea: ripping apart my beloved study to refit it with a fake bed and dried flowers so that potential purchasers wouldn’t be confused about how many bedrooms we actually had. Maybe we should put labels on the doors. Maybe we should impose an IQ test on people wanting to inspect the place. I was in a black mood as I started desultorily preparing to dismantle my household refuge and space. The gang of imaginary house sale demons I had constructed for myself frolicked in my imagination: “Your current house is a structurally unsound death-trap that’s probably built on an abandoned asbestos mine or nuclear waste dump. “, “The list of maintenance tasks is endless and many of them will require tradespeople who will charge sums of money that could erase the Bolivian national debt”, “Your new house is so far away that NASA assistance will be required to reach it and there’s nowhere to put any of your stuff up there anyway”: that kind of thing. Then my beloved returned home. Sensing my morbid mood, she tried her classic strategy of emitting platitudes such as “We’re a team”, and “We’re in this together” whilst avoiding any specific offers of assistance. As I contemplated stuffing all my toys into boxes to put god knows where, I knew I was not in a rational state of mind. I simply wanted to be left alone until I could talk myself back off the psychological window ledge onto which I’d placed myself. So I suggested she go downstairs and let me finish and we’d talk later. At this point she decided a firm word was in order about my need to be cheerful toward her and how difficult it was for her to put up with my mood. Then we exploded: hurling abuse and insults in abandonment, blind to the open window we stood beside. The neighbours probably heard. We threw words at each other like broken bottles in a bar-room brawl. Words designed to inflict damage rather than convey information. At no point did she weaponise my nappies though. It was late in the day and I was in soaked Rearz Inspire+ that, given it’s state, was probably noticeable to her even under my jeans. I was slightly surprised that this was the thought that came into my head in the heat of the moment but it did. Since “Havoc” had been cried and the dogs of war most definitely let slip, I saw in this odd heat-of-the-moment thought, my own trust issue bubble to the surface. I’d expected her to go nuclear. She didn’t though. That was something I suppose. She didn’t do anything about organising carpet cleaning either though, the ONLY tangible house move contribution that she agreed to take on. In terms of project, we’re back at Tuesday. Thus the short update. I haven’t really being paying any attention to my underwear lately.