I have been a strangely unhappy little wound up ball of anxiety today. I’m not sure why or where it’s come from. Could be the realisation hitting me that our lives have changed, and will change again when Philippa starts her new job, and I’m not sure how those changes will change HER. It could be the late night I had last night, sitting up until 2am watching fireworks and Jools Holland, coupled with an early start because my insomnia kicked in when I woke for a wee at 4.35 and I’ve been awake since. Or it could be the gut-shatteringly gargantuan amounts of shit food I’ve been consuming over the past 10 days or so.
I think it’s probably that.
Sugary snacks, carbonated drinks, alcoholised puddings, lots of double cream, extra-caffeinated luxury coffee made using my Christmas present from Hannah; it’s no wonder my system is reacting with an array of symptoms that combine the full-on horror of Type 2 diabetes with the debilitating effects of heroin withdrawal. Maybe I need to have a few days detox. If I spend the next 72 hours eating healthily and drinking only water and the anxieties dissipate, I’ll know exactly what the problem was.
On the other hand, we still have lots of snacks left over, the supermarket is selling mince pies off cheap, and it’s only two weeks til my birthday, so maybe I should just plough on through and hope to hit a breakthrough point after which I feel better.
Happy 2018, all.
(Philippa, by the way, has been binge watching ‘The Big Bang Theory’ so she seems to be doing okay.)
RC 1-1-18
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