The doc didn’t ring. Went to the surgery to pickup prescription and query about the call that didn’t materialise. Not much luck, was just told to ring again tomorrow. Now, a bit peeved about this – but won’t go into a rant about the state of the NHS. I still got faith.
Interesting how internal things trouble me far more than external, I cannot affect them so I just let them be. Maybe it is an inbuilt obsession, trying to organise and control everything, thus tying myself more and more into a knot.
I am so tired that I see double. Partly not being able to sleep per se, and partly thanks to an overexcited toddler who relives daily adventures in his dreams and wakes up for a drink and a chat.
I ended up sleeping on the nursery floor again, with a teddy as a pillow. It is surprisingly comfy, all things considered. I heard the church bell ring six times, and the young man happily babbling away in his bed.
They are magical moments those moments in the nursery at night, even though my eyes flicker with tiredness and dreams creep up in the corners of my eyes. It is cosy, small and warm in there, and all the troubles are lightyears away.
- A Victorian monologue/narrative poem (huddmusichallarchive.wordpress.com)