And So It Begins.

There is a distinctly cooling breeze out on this grey overcast day. So far I have only been out to buy a paper but I will venture out again shortly.

I emerged from my bed dazed, disorientated and troubled. It had been a bad night for dreams, angst and anxiety filled memories of mum and what I have not managed to achieve at work. It was only a matter of time before the holiday anxiety kicked in. And now it has.

Why do I get like this? I know we will have fun yet there is so much that can go wrong. It probably won't of course, anxiety tells me extreme untruths not moderate truths. The older I get the more I realise that behind the anger mum was crippled with fear. And now I can't seem to shake it.

I have invited Gary and Ali for roast beef later. He has just completed a commendable sponsored walk to and from The Plume of Feathers at Tewin 5 times in a day. He's very good at raising money like that. Yet as I write I'm not sure I want any company. The desire to be alone haunts me sometimes. I have enough practice living as I do but sometimes I want to shut the door, switch the phone off and take a break from the world.

With luck it is just a passing fear. I need to be better tomorrow as I'm off to Covent Garden to meet my friend Krishna. In the mean time I have my cricket, Sri Lanka finally making a fight of it, and perhaps a jaunt to a country pub.

I Heard a Voice.