OK all. Update time.
This morning I went to the surgery. Burst into tears at reception. Burst into tears with the doctor. You'll never guess, I am signed off with depression. The doctor asked if I minded that going on the sick note. It's the truth. I'm not ashamed of it. Of course now the tears have been released and the doctor has said I am depressed and need to up my medication I feel better. Not cured better, but better in myself. If you’ve had clinical depression you will understand how much better you feel once you get the doctor diagnosing it, in my case, yet again.
So to celebrate, I started work in cleaning and sorting the kitchen (the entire house makes the Augean stables look like a hospital ward). I’ve now already part cleared one bit of it. Don't ask. It's not a pretty story and it sure as hell wasn't a pretty sight.
I was worrying about the work at the office, but as my manager said, they will have to sort it out somehow or other. It’s not my problem now, and why I was worrying about letting them down, when I wasn’t because I’m not well?
If you don’t mind me being rude to you for moment, dear reader, I have put you higher up my list of priorities than you deserve. Then when I read yesterday’s comments, there aren’t words enough.
So to my chums here, Anthony (currently in New York - my men get about a bit, no riff-raff here!) from the gay dating site (and we have yet to meet), my little impish mate Justin and last but not least Heidi, all I can say is you’ve all made one hell of a difference to my life, I hope I can repay you adequately some time for all you have done for me over the past week and especially this weekend.
I’m a lucky bugger.
Tim
