I stupidly told Philippa about the anal explosion I had yesterday and now she wants me to go to the doctor. She pointed out that it happened a few weeks ago when we moved here. She also pointed out that I was sick in the garden recently, and that I seem to have less energy than normal, and she’s worried. I reminded her that Sophie had told me the stress of the move had affected me, that I was sick because I ate and drank stupidly that night, and that I have less energy because my workday is extended by 90 minutes now due to travelling further. She just kissed me and said “If you haven’t seen a doctor by Wednesday I’m going to take you to the walk-in clinic in Norwich.”
Bloody women.
RC 22-8-14
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