First a poem:
Cat's Note
How often can you take a poem
and stroke it on your lap?
John Agard
Rather liked that, an amusing, intriguing little thought. The cat is of course, quite right, but then cats generally are right, they prefer it that way.
The major excitement in my life this week has been the opening of Waitrose in Croydon. For those not in the UK or not in the know this is a supermarket, generally seen as the "poshest", certainly it sells the best quality food and I am most excited and thrilled. I now have beautiful food for sale 10 minutes from my front door, I have a feeling this may make a slight dent in my finances. It is impressive how they have managed to make a formerly drab thoroughly depressing shop into a smart, classy little supermarket. It is the smallest Waitrose I've ever been in, but still stocks a good range of products. Their staff could do with a little more training, but no doubt that will come with time.
I've been a teeny bit less overwhelmingly exhausted today and no headache wooooooooo! Let's hope that continues tomorrow, I like being able to do something with my day, however small. Yet I'm starting to struggle with the heat, I'm beginning to conclude that my body simply does not have an optimum temperature, it is stuck in a permenant state of petulant disapproval and complaint, as hard to please as the Queen of Hearts in "Alice". Heigh-ho, can't get too fed up, or I'd never stop being fed up. Though sometimes that's how it feels. Yesterday I was so, so angry with feeling awful constantly, so sick of it, so fed up and yet there doesn't seem to be an end in sight, if nothing I get worse. I'm sure God knows what He's doing, it just all looks jolly odd from my perspective.
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