The morning after the night before.

So, in the true spirit of getting straight back on the horse, I started the day with a bowl of nutty muesli.

As im still here, scribing this, I’m either alright or its my latest suicide attempt, and this is the last you’ll hear from me.

Ive already been given breakfast of the above, plus coffee and fruit by my new, temporary flatmate, but longtime friend, Colin ( aged 83 ), and visited by Dan, Pia and Debs, and texted and emailed by half of the world ( including Alwyn, Monique, Arti and Sandra who all live on the other side of the globe and therefore are liable to read my latest plaintive, moany posts that I write from A&E at midnight here, at say 11am or 6pm there) Thank you all for getting in touch, it does keep the wolf that’s trying to tear out my throat, from the door.

I shan’t go to work today, as I now look still like the victim of disabled hate crime ( mugging ) , with swollen eyes akin to the effect of being punched in the nose. I do read that this type of crime is on the increase – soft targets obviously – why I always carry a gun, pepper spray and a Tazer .

That last bit wasn’t true.

Or was it?

2 thoughts on “The morning after the night before.

  1. Oh dear Russ! WTF?! Hoping you and your face will be back to normal soon. Have you escaped from the hideous hospital yet? Get well soon and no more self-harm please or else I’ll come and kick your paralysed ass! Crikey, the lengths some people will go to to avoid putting their own chair into the car! ;-D x

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