The sultry closeness of the early part of the week has given way to a gloomy autumn day with a hint of September chill. I'm not at my best having woken with my stomach doing cartwheels. That put paid to the vague idea I would venture down to Borough Market for a wander. Didn't want to risk going too far from home.
My mood is a little flat too so felt the urge to go and buy something. I also had to pick up my prescription. The brief hour or so I spent in town left me coming away virtually empty handed barring a Bath bun which I will have with my tea.
The prescription had it seems already been sent to the Chemist. My wanders in John Lewis with my voucher in hand once again came to nothing. So home I came.
Now Rossini plays, I have warmed up somewhat and the stomach feels calmer. Oh what a mixed bag my holiday has been.
That said I still recall fondly Helen's wedding, the wonderful Food Festival, the gathering of old friends the scale of which is rarely seen except at Christmas, and the glorious rare beef on Sunday.
Since then I have dined well, slept sporadically and spent the day in Cambridge with Sarah on Monday. And what a lovely day we had despite the cloying humid air that tired me out far more quickly than her. She is used to long dog walks so has a little more practice than me. I felt a little as if I had curtailed things early but my memories of that day still stay in the plus territory of this years old mood disorder.
I'm a little saddened that there have been mood, sleep and stomach interruptions. But we cannot have beautiful, happy, energetic days all the time. Work still lurks but this week is going slower than I expected.
With luck tomorrow will be more settled and upbeat. Struggling to know what to do with myself now but the world is my oyster tomorrow. And tomorrow will always dawn for good or ill. Let it be for good. Until next time.
I Heard a Voice.
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