Uni Appointments Home Car

To my new readers (oldies skip to next paragraph)

I have just enabled a lot more people to see these links through facebook. Due to the nature of the blog I don’t want certain people reading it. You will notice that my name is nowhere on the blog, or in my profile. I am anonymous to anyone who stumbles upon the blog, known only by those I allow to see the facebook links. I would appreciate anyone who chooses to leave a comment to just refer to me as K and not mention anything else which could easily identify me. Thank you.

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I am usually happy with myself if I achieve one thing per day, it can be as small as getting out of the house to run some errands, or as big as going to uni. Yesterday I went to the bank, followed by medicare; I drove 45 minutes to visit L, we had coffee and stared at the yummy Irish barista (his coffee is pretty bad). I then walked 20 minutes to my psychology appointment, stopping by an art supplies store on the way; I talked and listened for a very long hour, and had coffee across the road with F immediately after. On my walk back to the car – which I’d left at the hospital – I went to medicare again, had lunch and got lost for 20 minutes. I then drove to uni, stopping on the way to let my car cool down because it doesn’t like the new water pump and now wants to explode. I got to uni 10 minutes early and sculled a vodka and coke to take the edge off my car worries, attended class, resisted the urge to leave early due to the fact that everything around me was changing colours and I completed six writing exercises.

Today I have achieved brushing my teeth, though it took until 3pm to talk myself into it. I should be in class right now but can’t face the thought of leaving the house and carrying the world’s heaviest laptop, plus books on public transport. Tomorrow I have to leave the house for a psychiatry appointment; it’s not optional unless I fancy a huge cancellation fee. It is going to take a walk, a bus, a walk, a tram and another walk to get there. You may do that every day to get to work, if so I congratulate you, I’d rather hide in the wardrobe all day talking to the daddy long-legs’ that I haven’t bothered to evict.