Yesterday took a most unexpected turn after I posted. I learned shortly after of the sudden death of my great friend Sue back home in Kent. An extraordinary and kind eccentric she launched the career of many a local musician, housed the waifs and strays of youth culture, led a decadent life style, was both a white witch and a Catholic-go figure that one-and was an all round superstar. She leaves a son James, a daughter Georgina, the grandchildren Lola and FiFi, and almost forgotten in the tributes a step son Anders. Anders and I go way back. Many a wild party was had a Sue's houses and who can forget our epic trip to Puerto Banus in the autumn of 2004? I will miss her terribly.
To say I'm shocked is an understatement and coming on a day in which my anxiety was a bit raised not very easy for me.
Added to that anxiety was picking up a message from my GP surgery asking me to call. Given I just had a blood test my mind went into overdrive. That anxiety again, Dory and I conferred on what it does to us over lunch, we are both only just realising how mental illness is fuelled by that anxiety. I had a lovely afternoon with her though. Of course she was appallingly flirty with the rather vain waiter-no change there then.
Yet I could not shake that fear. Expecting the worst and hoping it didn't wreck my weekend I called. Transpires it was just a clerical error. Oh how the mind winds itself up. Why can't I listen to myself? It is fear of what might happen not what does happen.
So now I'm home watching last night's Cardinals - Vikings game, the fear is in check and I'm ready for the weekend. Still on course for Tuesday and it has been agreed to shorten the day. Tomorrow St Albans awaits. Back on here at the weekend.
I Heard a Voice.
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