touch typing courses are rubbish

March 3rd.
Had my teeth done today, they hurt a bit. I couldn’t move my mouth for a while but now I can. I don’t want to smoke anymore but it’s such an addicion that the best way for me to achieve it is to stay in and go to bed early. I’mnot going to bget much work done likethat. I am currently watching My name is earl whilst typing this without looking because when I was on the dole for 4 years I did loads of computer courses and one of them was learning to touch type. It is realoy fun and freaks perople out. I remember at school there were typing gcse’s you could do with those big old metal typewriters where you could get your fingers stuck in the keys. Mind you, judging by the state of this I wouldn’t have got a good grate. Grade even. I was very snotty about people who did typing and child care. I thoyugth they weren’t real subjects – how odd that seems now. As if my choices such as physics and micro electronics have stood me in tbetter stead. Maths was definitely useful though. I worked in a vegetable market for a few years when I was at scholl and we used to add it all up in our heads as we served. That really keeps your brain from rusting up. And then I was a barmaid and did the same thing. I used to know my £1.80 times table. It’s useful doing adding up. I often do it at supermarkets before I get to the check out and I’ve often spotted mistakes that the tills make. They OFTEN overcharge. That may sound really petty and tragic but then again if I wanted two pints of milk and not one I would have picked them up in the first place.
This is wied writing without think in gtoo hard. I wouldn’t usually use the word ‘often’ three times in a row.
Does everyone go on about how annoying mobile phones are. I texted someone earlier and KNEW I wouldn’t hear back but I sent it anyway. So I thought I’ll tunr my phone off so I won’t know either way and I wont be waitingf for a a messge back but I couldn’t do it. this stuff is not going on my website.

Mother goes to see a counsellor

Today is raining and apparently it's going to rain for 3 days which is great because otherwise there might be a drought like most of my childhood in Cornwall in the 70's. My Lily of The Valley is starting to grow quite nicely so soon I'll have nice smelly flowers in my house. Hooray. Currently listening to Kate Bush's latest album which I like very much. Also currently listening to Cat Stevens, I'm Being Good, John Cooper Clarke and Ninety Nine. A right old mixture I know. Reading a book on William Blake but unfortunately it's from the 1940's so some of it is incomprehensibly written - way too complicated and flowery but I determined to finish it with the aid of a dictionary. My mum made me cry with laughter on the phone today, telling me about the time she went for counselling.
'God, I was dead nervous. I said to Noel (my dad) what the bloody hell am I going to talk about? He said, don't worry, you'll get in there and it'll all flow out. I thought "I bet it won't, I haven't got anything to say". Anyway, I got there and started talking and I COULDN'T STOP! I was like a train, rattling along. I told him everything, all this stuff was pouring out of me, stuff about my childhood and all sorts. Well he didn't say a word and I think at one point he nodded off. So I went home and I said to Noel " I talked and talked and he didn't say anything. That's not much bloody use is it?" And he said, well, what he'll do you see is he will have been listening and next week when you go back he'll pick back up on some of the things you said. So I went back the next week and the same thing happened again. I talked non stop and it got to about quarter to five - we were meant to stop at five - and he said, 'well, I think we might as well stop there, there's nothing wrong with you but if you want another appointment then make one through your doctor and by the way I like your bag'. So I went home and Noel said 'what did he say?' and I replied well, I'm not mad and he likes my bag. And that was that.
Maybe it's not so funny without mum's phenomenal delivery. She has the merest hint of a Coventry accent and is a fantastically funny story teller. We ended the call with her saying that she needs to write to Alan Bennett to tell him to watch me in I Deal on BBC3 next week. She made it sound like he'd better watch out because a meteor was about to land in his front room. Mum's trying to get Alan Bennett (she doesn't know him, they just write to each other. She thinks she's one up on him because she's read a Russian author that he hasn't 'and he went to Oxford') to cast me in one of his plays.