Ghosts

Walking to the Gym yesterday, I realise how much better life is now than it has been for some years. Undoubtedly, therapy is the difference between Now and Then, means by which the problems in my world are rationalised. There is also acceptance that how my life runs is so, so much better overall. This year, for instance, I’ve performed poetry live, three times. I’m not filling Wembley Stadium, sure, but that’s a quantum leap forward from last year, giving me something concrete to aim for in 2020.

Success is worth celebrating more than I currently do.

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It’ll be a month tomorrow since I got sick. I’m still coughing, but it’s not life threatening, and if I can say the same come my birthday then we’ll worry. I have a raft of blood tests this week plus a mammogram, then on Wednesday my husband has his scheduled surgery. It’s probably a good sign that there’s already stuff being scheduled as I’ll assume there won’t be time to write until he’s home.

This week is also when I finally get around to doing the shit I’ve put off for weeks: get the car serviced, sort the dentists, attack finances with a pickaxe. Also I’ll start doing twice weekly killer exercise again, whilst doing more in terms of actual relaxation. The next proper break I’ll get will be Half Term. I intend to make the absolute most of every moment I get in the interim, hopefully by the use of judicious planning.

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The key fact that was missing between last month and now was having something to relax with. Now that’s been fixed? Let’s get to it.

Also, need to make some new headers.