Saturday, 7 December 2019

Cancalm Can Calm

So having switched back to Mirtazapine recently, I've felt a lot more settled mentally and physically. Duloxetine didn't work at all for me, but the previous medication had obtained a few positive results. I'm nowhere near perfect, but I never have been. Hence, I figured it was time to mix something else in.

Disclaimer: Speak to your doctor before you change your meds. Don't just copy me.

On Saturday I went out with 7 women around the Northern Quarter, the perfect scenario for trying out Cancalm, a CBD (Cannabidoil) product. The girls are a group of friends, some I know, some I met for the first time. It's a scenario in which, as fun as I find it, my anxiety is going to spike, purely due to my own problems.

The question is, is it safe to mix Mirtazapine with CBD? Cancalm, of course, say it is. Research out there, as lengthy and complex as it is, is inconclusive.

We started in Double Down, a great new underground Northern Quarter bar playing rarely-heard hip-hop tracks. The cocktails looked really good, but I figured mixing alcohol in was one variable too much, so I'd driven. Before setting off I ate a 25mg Cacao Melt, a white chocolate drop. This came in the Cancalm goody bag from their launch night.

Anxiety was mostly under control. I chatted to people a little bit, particularly to the women I'd just been introduced to, but I could feel a little stress creep in towards the end of the night. Without getting the violins out, I worry about not being good enough for people. Rather than feeling like anxiety was stopping me, I felt like there was almost a floating space in my mind that I then made a purposeful effort to fill with conversation. Which I did.

The night went well, although nothing major happened. I still have the oil to try.

Thursday, 5 December 2019

#tbt Beermats: Week 22

Wednesday, 4 December 2019

Once Upon a Time in Great Britain: Part 3


OUT £20 £17.39
IN £14000 £1417.39

It was more relief than excitement at first. Then I had to figure out how to make this last- it was the only pay cheque I’d be getting for the foreseeable future. That's kinda daunting when you've been getting weekly amounts from an agency. After the last one I didn't have an actual job yet. Or so I thought.


Tom’s mobile is ringing… and ringing. His ring tone is Explosive, by Dr. Dre. Tom’s fast asleep. You can guess he had a late one: club flyers are scattered over the duvet and floor, as are his new shirt and jeans. The barcoded labels are still in the mess on the floor. Tom awakes, confused. His bank receipt reminds him of what he did yesterday at the fair. He knows this call is from Devant.


He JUMPS out of bed and shakes off to wake up. Takes a deep breath. Picks up the phone.


Mr. Aaronson! Good morning!

Mr. Devant?

That’s right. Mr Aaronson: I need you to liaise with some future associates in Manchester. They are employees of Bar Code. Are you familiar with the venue?

Newspaper headlines:
'Bar in Cocaine Scandal'
'Security Investigated Again'
The accompanying photographs show hands pushed into cameras, people being roughly thrown out onto the street, blood all over the doorstep.

Bar Code, yeah. Jesus, yeah, I’ve heard of it. I know where it is; I’ve never managed to get in.

I’m sure you’ll have no problems on the door from now on. And don’t worry, you won’t be doing bar work. You’ve got enough of that on your CV. The gentlemen in question live in the Royal Apartments on the edge of Manchester Centre. Would you be happy to share accommodation with them?

TOM (expecting a hefty rent bill)
How much is that?

The accommodation would be free of charge.

I can afford that, yeah!

Tom steps in, wearing a new and well-cut black suit. He catches his reflection in the glass door and smiles.

A few well-dressed people in their early 30’s are lunching while escaping the summer heat. The bar is well designed, smart, with a piano cordoned off for use at night.

CALLUM, A sixteen-year-old boy in a wool jumper and pumps- obviously dressed by his mum- is talking to the BARTENDER. A beautiful woman is propping up the bar, watching the whole conversation. Her eyes are locked on the bartender.

He said you’ve got an oversized ego. He said the work you do is fine-


Tom picks up a business card left on the bar top- “Yanyan Leung”.

-And if you stop making DVDs he said it would be a problem but not a big problem.

Bartender rolls his eyes in embarrassment.

You’re only sixteen, you little gimp. You shouldn’t even be in here.

But if you carry on talking about it Devant will-

He’ll what.

Tom looks up, recognising the name. Bartender discreetly nods to someone out of frame.

If you carry on you’re dead.

BAM! A DOORMAN runs right into Callum like a freight train, taking him out of frame.

Tom props up the bar. A long-haired Welsh barman comes over.

What can I get you mate?

Are you Dave?

No, I’m Tony. He’s Dave.

TONY points to the barman who had been speaking to Callum. DAVE, 23, well built and handsome, flairs a cocktail for another beautiful woman. He doesn’t take his eyes off the drink.

I’m Dave, hold on…

Dave slams some money into the till and looks up.

I’m Tom, I was asked to come here by Mr. D-

DAVE (Cutting Tom off)
Oh you’re Tom. Good to meet you.

Tom and Dave shake hands.

We’re clocking off in a bit; we’ll sort you out. Been working since midnight.

Thought you shut at two.

Here, we do.

A MANAGER in a suit walks over.

Guys, there’s people waiting to be served-

DAVE (Interrupting)
Yeah, fuck off.

Manager apparently thinks this is a joke. He smiles and walks off. Dave gives him a dirty look.

Tom looks stunned. He points over shoulder.

You can get away with that?

We get away with all sorts. Yeah, we’ve been waiting for you to come in. We’ve got a present for you.