DAMN. I want to burst into tears. How I hate this time of my life. The toilet is blocked. The sink is Blocked. The plumber didn’t come and nor did the Cleaners and the books are still all piled up. The Blood Taker didn’t ring with an appointment. And next week I go to hospital on my own for a surgery I am afraid of.
And suddenly I would like to sob. A heartbroken, body broken woman who has had it.
I SERIOUSLY LACK OOMPH.
I did ride around with the 3 year old who took over the camera and chattered me into joy.
I did get a warm dressing gown from the op shop. I don’t do well in dressing gowns or slippers but the Hospital said to bring one.
I was offered a lift to the surgery and might get back to Liss and accept but the enmeshment with other people troubles my muddled head.
All it takes to throw me into this teariness is more than one activity required of me in a day and then confusion reigns and I panic.
And then a lady comes on to Facebook and we talk of being widowed and of illness and I am OK.