Data days...

Today?  Back to back appointments for the care and control of the careful but uncontrollable body.  Dentist for hours, having part one of a crown (who knew one could achieve principalities just by lying back and going OW?).  Nice dentist, very fetching yellow chair.  Everything else less entertaining, although at one point Stuart said "are you ok?" and I said "yes of course, I'm just singing songs in my head, but your drill is out of tune...".

The physio said "Have I told you about the tennis-ball-into-the-butt exercise?"  How to answer THAT?  I said no, but she forgot to demonstrate before I left.  I am perhaps not so sad about this!

Now I am ringing up unsatisfactory home-assistance services, like T#lstra, the cleaners, the garden dudes, who have all PROmised they'll ring, and PROmised they'll turn up, etc etc.  Fibbers and skivers the lot of them.  I managed to extract times and dates from the cleaners.  Purrhaps they felt sorry for me after I mentioned that we have switched from sweeping to raking in the kitchen... 

The garden dudes should return soon to continue to remove archaeological layers of mulch in the gutters and rain it down on my unsuspecting garden beds.  I see this as quite a positive thing - apart from stopping water backing up under the eaves and frying our outside lights, this will be their extra added nutrient for the next six months.

And now, just to top myself off, so to speak, it's time to visit the counsellor for my regular vent, moan, whimper, snort and snuffle.  I haven't had time to have lunch, wash my hair, hang out the clothes, or anyfink.  I want to say fark this and sit in front of a fire, knitting bobbles.  I only learnt how to do that yesterday so it's a funky fun subject right now.

Oh well.  Life does go ON, doesn't it?...