annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Day 125

The Thursday writing group tutor wants a 20-30 word biography to go in the collection of our work she's publishing. I can't even begin. I'm still standing - that's about it. All I can think about is Sammie. I don't want to try and say something clever about myself in 20 words. I googled it and it says to think about what you want your message to be - well I don't give a fuck, I don't have a message. Read me, don't read me, do what you like. I'm going to write anyway. 

The nurse at the clinic took the dressing off my leg and unleashed a great puddle of what looked like watered down chocolate sauce. Fucking gross. Underneath it most of the wound has healed but there's still a deep hole with bits in - scab, she thought - so she stuck another of these vile dressings on top and said a couple of days should do it, so could I come back on Friday? Yes, no problem. She opened the appointments page, nothing on Friday.. or Monday... or Tuesday. So it's another week. This nurse said the dressing is waterproof and I can go in the sea, and I looked it up to check, having been given contradictory instructions, and she's right - they are impermeable, waterproof and swimming is fine. But the weather has gone off - I could have swum last week when it was proper lush. Moan. 

The speed awareness course was OK. I learned that stopping distances increase dramatically with every extra mile per hour and that a lot of people are fucking paranoid. The instructor won't let anyone eat or drink anything in her car in case she has to do an emergency stop and they choke. Now her kids are adults and they don't let anyone eat or drink in their cars either. I wanted to ask her how many emergency stops she's had to do - I don't think I've done one since my driving test. I don't want to live my life worrying about all the things that could happen but probably won't. Apart from covid. I fucking don't want that. 

12:42 a.m. - 16.07.20

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