I've had a horrible few days at work. Its been appallingly hot, colleagues have driven me mad, I'd damaged stuff while using a fork-lift truck, and generally had a miserable time. This has been compounded by a complete inability to sleep properly.
The shift finished at 6pm yesterday and I was exhausted. Crawled up the stairs and phoned Wifey. As I spoke to her I remembered that I'd promised to go to a quiz with some people. Damn charities! I showered, and ended up actually sobbing in the shower I was so sore and tired. I couldn't raised the energy to cook, so I dragged myself to the top of the hill and went into the Chinese take away. A guy came and asked about my order, but I couldn't speak - not through fatigue - I'd seen the prices. £8 for egg fried rice... it was £11 for Beef in Black Bean Sauce. At home my local take away can feed me, Number 1 Son and Wifey for £13:50, so I wasn't prepared to pay £20 to feed just me! I strolled to the Wetherspoons and had a burger and a pint for £4:50.
Refreshed I headed to the quiz and had a rollicking good time. Drank too much, but didn't care, and rolled in at about midnight. I fell asleep in the chair, woke at about 2am and headed to bed.
I felt fine this morning, and as I had the day off I lolled about in an indolent fashion before deciding to go out at about noon. I took my coat, as it looked like rain, but that was a bad idea. Bought myself a rucksack in a sale, stuffed my coat into it and strode out of the city. I walked for about 6 miles in a wandery, absent minded sort of way. I stopped in a church just for the hell of it. And came home with good, fresh bread, fruit and an idea about going to the cinema tonight that will probably come to nothing.
No, there was no agoraphobia again today either.
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