As the snow pours down outside in the darkness I reflect on what has been a dark week in more ways than one. I was supposed to be going to dinner at the Waggoners today with my friend John. The tax man had given him a rare smile in the form of rebate and he suggested we go out there.
We did not count on the intervention of my health and the weather. I had a very long day on Tuesday leaving my flat at 7 am and returning at 6.30 pm following a day in Northampton. Not sure whether is coincidence or a reaction but I woke up on Wednesday with an extremely sore throat and feeling absolutely washed out. I made it through my day at work but it was not a good day-days when I meet with my boss rarely are.
Thursday gave me more energy but still a bad throat. Not much happened that day. And then we got to yesterday. The fatigue was back, my throat was still sore, and I had a banging headache. But more seriously I found my mood slipping. For the first time since my relapse two years ago I had started to question what I was doing and my competence to do it. As I came home yesterday I had an overwhelming feeling that I wanted to give up.
Today has just been a day of streaming cold. But still my mood is low. So as the snow covers us in white hue and the darkness broods outside, I brood in my warm but empty flat. Had some ribs but they were poor. I just hope now that Rick Stein and a couple of beers lift things. I hate feeling disillusioned!
I Heard a Voice.
PS as a measure of my low mood, I started to re-read "Charon's Ferry"-my verdict is shit!
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