Had I come on here to write on Thursday things would have been optimistic and good. Slowly but surely I am getting to grips with the job. I had bought some wonderful produce from a newly discovered fishmongers in Hatfield Market. And I was looking forward to a long weekend with my friend Marie who was visiting from Kent.
All was going swimmingly until I slept poorly on Friday night and came down with an upset stomach on Saturday. By Sunday morning I was crippled by anxiety and my stomach was still doing cartwheels.
Add in overcooked rack of lamb and the optimism of last week has evaporated.
That it is a temporary setback I have no doubt. Just a shame that a promising long weekend has been marred by malady.
Yet it being Sunday there is opera. The Rams take on the hated 49ers in the NFC Championship Game tonight, too late for me to watch as I'm working tomorrow. But a victory will go a long way towards righting my ship.
The week ahead will come one day at a time. And I intend to thrive if I can. I have my final therapy session on Wednesday. It will be a shame to say goodbye but he has indicated he wants to stay in touch. All the greatest practitioners are mavericks and break the rules. Therapy is a human interaction not a boundaried inhuman exchange that suits the needs of the therapist more than the needs of the individual.
I Heard a Voice.
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