Ho hum, it's back to the doctor's for me, I think. Had something of a rough night last night - though thankfully not as rough as it's been in the past. And, hey, I did get a lot of sudokus done, so it's not all bad news. But I still think I need something stronger from the medical powers that be to kick my ear/nose/throat problems into touch. Or at least more into touch than they are currently! Also, looking back in my diary, I can see I had the selfsame thing exactly one month ago - so nobody can accuse me of not being regular. On such stalwart reliability was the Empire won ... And lost indeed.
Anyway, even Lord H thinks a quick trip to the doctor might be a good idea, so I'll ring tomorrow to see if I can get an appointment this side of the next Millennium. Hmm, don't hold your breath then. However, the good news on the doctor front is the mad doctor who'd taken to asking me to pray with him at the end of each session (and it's so bloody difficult to say no to such requests, especially if you're feeling ill, dammit) has retired at last so I don't have to run the gauntlet of inappropriate religious requests. Thank God. I just have to make sure I avoid the bitchy female doctor and the overbearing male plonker one, and I should be okay. Famous last words.
Talking of which, in the shades of last night (is it just me or is 1.30am always the start of the most depressing time of the night?), I suddenly came over all weepy thinking, oh God, I've probably got some ghastly disease and I'm going to die horribly and go to hell because I'm such a wicked person, and Lord H won't be there. Honestly! Am I a wuss or what??! In the cold light of day, such musings seem terribly childish of course, but there you go. That's what an Anglican upbringing and ex-Evangelical guilt can do for you. And this morning Lord H reassures me that, yes, of course he'll be in hell with me, so I won't be entirely alone - accountants never get to heaven apparently. It's a known theological fact. Ah well, at least it won't be cold ...
All this nonsense means that I've had to cancel golf and lunch out today, and I am simply staying indoors and not eating very much. Though, as usual, I'm drinking a hell of a lot of Lucozade. So, as well as being ill, I'm now completely hyper and have bright orange teeth. Lovely. It's astonishing Lord H doesn't run screaming to the hills, demanding his money back. If anyone deserves an NVQ Level 5 in Marital Loyalty, it's him.
Tonight, I'm doing sod all, and hoping to get some sleep. It's a busy week ahead. I really don't have time to be the Lydia Languish of Godalming. Still, I wish I had half her style.
This week's haiku:
Novels are shy birds
coaxed out only with breadcrumbs
and endless patience.
Today's nice things:
1. Lord H
3. Being too ill to worry about work tomorrow!
aw you poor thing. i'm sending you a hug in a mug; it's cram of asparagus. mmmmm....
Sounds lovely, Irene ... Thank you!
So sorry to hear you're not well again, Anne. I hope the doc sorts you out. Very relieved to hear you don't have to face that one that prayed (or was it preyed). It sounds as if it was time he was pensioned off.
Thanks, Jackie! Yes, I agree - and he used to be okay too!
Thanks for telling me I am destined for Hell, Anne....might as well give up now, I guess!
Oh and of course I hope you get well soon...and find a nice doctor somewhere...
But you'll be in good company, Cathy - Lord H & I will be there!
Hope you're feeling bright and shiny again soon, Anne.
Hugs from me too.
Thanks, Nik - appreciated!
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