But it is the nail on my right thumb, so I can’t. Spazhands.
Anyway, it’s been a fraught Christmas, so I think a single chipped nail is jolly well done. Now I am back at home – in my own flat – and loving it. We will not talk of the Lush Boxing Day Sale but, anyhow, I preferred the Hallowe’en products, and in the last 48 hours I have bathed with both Boo! bath melt and Pumpkin Bath Bomb, so I am happy. Very happy.
I pause while watching Harry Potter on ITV in my pyjamas to note that Nestle are advertising water these days. WHAT!
It’s good to be home. Good home, good cheese, Christmas chocolate, my own company. Nice.
Today I went to the post office by bus – my annual pilgrimage to send my accountant some dull paperwork – and then it turned out I had to walk to the GP as well. Since I moved, I need to register with a new practice, and I tried to do that online, but it didn’t work, so then I had to go there on foot, which I would not have attempted unless I had to, knackered as I was from the post office jaunt. But I am back to work on Tuesday, the new practice closes at weekends, and my old GP practice is threatening to delete me, so needs must and all that.
I swear, if all cripples had jobs, the NHS would collapse.
While drinking a tea, massaging my post office-embattled feet, and working out the easiest route to the new place I didn’t want to walk to, I came across this article which tells me that Britain’s Most Senior GP believes pressures on services could jeopardise people with chronic conditions. NO SHIT! Also, she is talking like this is something that might happen at some point in the future unless things improve. LOLZ.
So I did that, and in doing that, walked a route I had never walked before. It was along the river and everyone I passed warned me how icy it was, and it was, and it made me feel better about paying the enormous service charge to live at my obscene housing development, because I have been there since Tuesday evening, and barely even noticed any ice. Well done, them.
I also found my local Co-Op, which had become almost mythical in my life because I knew it was there, but had never laid eyes on it. Well – hoorah! – not only is it real, they sold me a gnocchi and cheesy ready meal for just £1.49, which was not only very tasty, it’s what you need when you’ve gone on an unscheduled walk across ice because of the various failings of the NHS primary care mechanisms.
I’d made a decision to stop spending money willy nilly after Christmas, but I’m sure we’ll all agree a £1.49 gnocchi ready meal is not willy nilly. The online make up purchase I made online shortly after falling asleep in a pumpkin bath, crawling out, and baking it, I’m less sure.