I took myself home to sample the delights of a custard doughnut from the supermarket. It was as cruddy as it sounds. How on earth the words 'custard doughnut' are supposed to get the gastric juices flowing, I will never know.
After the queasiness started to abate I tidied up the spare room and went through the bathroom/loo like a dose of salts. I was tired in the first place, but feel even more tired now. When I get home I'll do the kitchen and then have me dinner. If I eat first I'll never get round to doing the kitchen. I can hoover the front room in the morning.
When I got back to the library I found an email from social services in reply to mine. It looks like they are going to sort out an assessment for me. That's good news
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