Or maybe a down up down day would describe it better.
I didn’t sleep at all last night, so have felt dreadful. It’s been like I was in a daze. My head feels heavy, my eyes are itching, blurry and hot and I feel like I’m coming down with a cold.
On the upside Dr. Laurie’s son, Dr. Laurie came to see me.
I have no idea why I announce him that way, because it’s not as if you don’t know the difference, is it, love?
His old dad is probably up there with you anyway. If he is would please say hello and thank him for all he that did.
Anyway, Dr. Laurie said that he wants try me on something called a bit of blocker and that it should curb me feeling anxious and might allow me to relax enough to sleep.
He wanted to give me a tranquilliser, but, even though I trust him, I don’t want to just sleep life away, do I, love? Especially as it left you so drowsy near the end.
He’s going to bring the prescription round tomorrow on his way home.
He’s very kind. Just like his dad. Except he doesn’t smoke in his surgery between patients. How things have changed, eh, Mol?
When he had gone I felt a little better. I suppose he has his ways, doesn’t he?
Then shortly afterwards the news came on and it showed all these little kiddies being dragged into that war abroad. The poor mites had no food or water and here I am complaining.
How can what I am going through be even close to what they’re facing. I feel like a fraud, Mol.
What must you think of me?
A blubbering old fool, feeling sorry for himself. I’m so sorry.
Please come and down and give me a right good kick in the seat of my trousers.
I’m so sorry. I’m going to go.
Speak to you tomorrow.
Love you always.
Your stupid, self-centred Bill.