My right ear...

...isnt a film. That's My Left Foot you're thinking of.

I have made lots of blog posts today. 'Why?', I hear you say.

It all started about three weeks ago. I got out of the shower one morning and it felt like I had got water in my ear. I duly wielded a q-tip, but to no good effect. It was sloshing about all day and my hearing wandered in and out of focus. I bought some Otec drops and started to use them. Judging by the way they fizzed in my ear, they had plenty to work with.

After a few days, I still couldn't hear properly and took myself off to Wollaston surgery on the Monday morning. A momentous occasion, as I had never been to the Doctors in Wollaston. Dr Marathe (I think), diagnosed a wax-related blockage and told me to keep taking the drops and to come back on Friday to see the Nurse. There started the longest four days of my life. My sunuses came out in sympathy and I was deaf (well, even more deaf than usual) in one ear. Friday eventually turned up, as did I at the Surgery. Some electronic gizmo was used to buffet my ear and I could hear again. My Tympanic membrane (I was listening, now I could) was red but this was put down to the abuse it had had over the past week or so. I was warned not to use cotton buds ever again, by the way. Hold that thought.

After a few days, my ear began to feel blocked again. Some gentle (or so I thought) investigation with a cotton bud (I know) elicited some cack. Technical term. Later in the week, this turned into reddish cack. Oo-er.

I went back to the Doctors. This time it was Mrs Dr Marathe. She was not pleased with me. I had an infection (which wasn't my fault) but had made it bleed (which was). She prescribed some antibiotics.

By the end of that day, I was in agony. Toothache in my ear. The antibiotics were taking an awfully long time to kick in but how would I have felt if I hadn't had them?

To bring things up to date, it's now Thursday lunchtime, I haven't gone to today's Commonwealth Board meeting because I couldn't have. Things are abating slightly but I still feel really bunged up. I will not be using a cotton bud to sort things out. That is a solemn promise to myself - I'm not about to go through that again.

God's beautiful game

The second game of the season is a bit soon for the low point of the year, but I think yesterday might have been it. I hope so, anyway.

West Ham lost at home to the Tott Scum. Judas Defoe scored from a horrendous back pass from Carlton Cole. Gutted. We hate the Totts, I don't know why, we just do. It's in the blood, as is so much which is West Ham-related. We are not like other teams (no jokes, please), our supporters belong to West Ham the team and West Ham the place. It's part of us, of what we are.

Millwall up next. That will be interesting, probably in the how-many-players-do-we-have-left-standing sense.

Why am I doing this?

I think I've worked it out. This isn't just a place to air my gripes and groans about my (very good) relationship. It's someone to talk to. That sounds really sad, but it's not meant to be. Sometimes all you need for a sounding board is the opportunity to talk. There doesn't need to be anyone listening. Talking it through just helps you organise things in your head. My head.

I feel better already.

Wellingborough 1 Wollaston 1

I worked late again last night, went straight to the gym with Annie, then back to hers. We usually see one another on Wednesday nights and while its the summer holidays I can get away with staying in Welly and going straight to work in the morning. No Dad's taxi, you see. Come September, things will be worse than they are now.

We both seem to agree that our life is ridiculous at the moment. We spend longer apart than we do together and even at weekends, there always seems to be some reason that we can't be together until the evening. I think it is a huge leap from where we are now to living together but Annie doesn't agree.

Sometimes it feels that we are a long way from sorting this out.

OK, most of the time.

Ground zero, day one, whatever

OK, where to start? I have relationship problems, but not of the usual sort.

Annie and I want to live together. At this stage of our relationship, we need to live together. But no, we can't. There are obstacles.

I live in the house that I bought with Julie, my late wife. Kate and Rob live with me. There is no way on this earth that we will sell this house. It has too many memories to just throw it away. And, its a very nice house.

Annie lives with her son, Shane. He's 21, out of a job (through his own volition) and with a broken leg that is taking many months to heal. Neither of us wants to tell Shane that we need him to move out. He's in no position to move out, to be fair. He is making noises about getting back to earning money (which will come as some relief to his mum), but by starting his own business, which sounds like it might be the start of a long haul.

Where do we go from here? Dunno.

More later