I don’t think she fully understands the implications of this. Calls the landladies ex husband at least six times while I’m there, thinks it is just a mistake, saying sorry will resolve everything….
Luckily the GP gets it and has sent off a letter. Tried to find what I needed from the folder I’d created to store the important papers. They are in chaos, the documents I’d left safely no where to be seen.
This is reminiscent of Dad.
I’d open a draw at Dad’s and find random things. Biscuits, pants, knives, perhaps a screw driver or two, coins and various precious possessions. Good God is this my destiny too?
Phone. Says she’ll have the apple pie later. No, seriously when did I give her that?! Oh no please don’t eat that. Throw it out now. (It’s probably gone mouldy by now! Is that where those extra symptoms come from, not storing food safely? Eating it when it’s too old?!
The more I hear the more I don’t want to hear. Really, is it really that bad.
Anyway another useful session with the pharmacist at the surgery. So many tablets out of date, where have all these extra tablets come from? More? The prospect of moving all this stuff fills me with horror.
I’ve written a list in big writing perhaps that will help. Got rid of the excess tablets the ones that were out of date. Clearly written down what needs to be taken and when.
She’s pleading with me to stay. I hate this bit. But the agency person is coming so she won’t be all alone. I realise I’ve forgotten to ask about CBT. The eviction notice more pressing.
I’ve missed a parcel, go to collect it but the office is closed despite it being in the so called open hours.
My son tells me he’s emailed his teacher. Phone. She’s found someone to talk to. We have a conversation about not going off with anyone. I feel a bit scared. When I haven’t been with her understandably the phone calls have been relentless today.
Anyway, he’s contacted his teacher, worried. Phone. It’s in her pocket!
Worried. Phone.
Worried about the fact that he couldn’t concentrate on the essay preparation because of the news of his friend. Perhaps the enormity only hitting him today. These teens killing themselves, what can be done. It’s desperate, it hits the whole community.
I’ve got work to do. Can’t concentrate today. I’m sure there’s something I should be doing but can’t think straight. Got to find that fucking birth certificate… did I put it with the important papers? In our safe? Somewhere else? Better get on, will a photo do?
Son tells me he’s arranged to go to the new memorial tree. This is all so fucking sad.