Things seem slightly calmer today, thank goodness. Possibly because I’m simply too tired to respond to difficulties with anything other than a grunt. And, if I’m feeling energetic, maybe even a shrug. Heck, I’m such fun at parties, you know. No, really …
Anyway, I’ve decided to go for the D&C at the hospital next week, so have sent letters to all and sundry, telling them this. Whether this will mean anything to the hospital by the time I turn up remains to be seen, so I’m planning to take all my correspondence with me so I can wave it at them at the due time. I think I’ll also ring up on Thursday when I’m at home, just to make sure – and then, if they do end up taking my leg off, it will most definitely not be my fault.
At work, after the rollercoaster ride of yesterday, everything is strangely subdued. Perhaps the students are either (a) shocked by the amount of work they have to do now the courses have started; (b) still recovering from the excitements of last week; or (c) too tired to speak. Perhaps all three. Really, I have every sympathy – my feelings are much the same.
I was planning on coffee and chat with Sally from Advice at lunchtime today, but unfortunately she’s off sick (get better soon, Sally …) so I walked round campus instead. All very soothing.
Meanwhile, this week’s heroes are: (a) Professor Gerald O’Collins, S.J., who wrote a lovely thank you letter to Chaplaincy Ruth; (b) Claudia Winkleman because I think she's the best thing on TV; and (c) Carol’s friends, Richard and Neil, who have been telling her husband how lovely she is. Which is true of course!
Tonight, I shall pop into see Gladys on the way home and see how the bird table is doing. UPDATE: it's not doing well. A lot of swearing and general nastiness tonight (just what I needed, eh!) so I didn't stay long - the poor old girl was obviously upset to see someone from beyond the four walls of her health prison ... Later it’s the vital catch up with the lovely Claudia and the Strictly Come Dancing gossip and then sleeeeeep. Though I might do some writing or at least stare at Hallsfoot’s Battle for a while, but I’m not confident that any words will come out. Which is in fact my usual state, I suppose.
I’ve finished reading The Sunday Night Book Club, which is a collection of short stories from best-selling (always a suspicious and highly unlikely term …) authors in aid of Breast Cancer Care. A very worthy cause indeed, but my goodness what a motley collection of tales. A large dose of cliché and clunkiness pervades, with particular no-hoper agonising-to-read offerings coming from Santa Montefiore and Lynne Truss. Shame on you, girls. There are a couple of good stories, but they’re wasted here. I’d just give the money directly to the charity if I were you – it’ll save you a couple of hours of your life for sure. I’ve also just finished This Is It – The Art of Happily Going Nowhere by Maurice Fullard Smith – which was an interesting but flimsy take on stillness and meditation. A good outline but really it needed more substance.
Time since The Gifting submission with no response: 4 months, 1 week and 3 days
Time since The Bones of Summer agent submission: 2 days
Today’s nice things:
1. A quieter day
2. Lunchtime walk
3. This week’s heroes