This morning

I got up aching, tired and feeling quite drowsy. I was deep in thought with the fags and coffee. I've got my interview at the workhouse today. The man made it quite clear last time that he was put out that I'd asked a mental health professional to help me into work. He also said some things last time that have made me feel uncomfortable ever since. He said that I want diagnosis just to get a label and to get things for free. I can't forget what he said about my good degree: "I have a friend who has a masters but he's an alcoholic. The bit of paper doesn't necessarily say anything". By the way this is the same man who, when I told him I find it difficult working with people, suggested potato packer, warehouse operative and fairground ride operator as suitable occupations.
I'm feeling a bit apprehensive about the forthcoming interview, and a bit browbeaten. Public services could do with being a bit more informed about mental health issues.

Time

Diagnosis, diagnosis... It's all I can think of. I've waited two years for the appointment and now I feel so impatient. I know it's no good thinking like this, but I can't help it. I know it won't come round any faster. I think that I'm going to feel very deflated and perhaps a bit odd once it's been done, so I'm going to do something very rare for me and have a drop of gin in reserve for afterwards.

Thinking

My last workhouse visit has been playing on my mind. I had to discuss my health issues, and the man obviously had no idea of what I was talking about. He said a few things which I found odd at the time. The more I think about it, what he said was quite inappropriate, even nasty. I'm not sure if I've understood properly, so I'll discuss it with my lady this afternoon. I think I am right though, so I want to find out what I can do about it.

Today

I've been creaking and aching since I got up, but I'm not complaining. After coffee and fags in my friends garden I was driven home to get myself smartened up. I'm wearing a suit but no tie, ready for the interview at lunchtime. I'm not at all looking forward to it, but I am looking forward to getting it over and done with.
I hate interviews. I am intensely uncomfortable when someone I don't know starts talking to me and looking at me. It's torture. I will have to walk the tightrope between maintaining eye contact, and giving someone the eyeball. The hard bit will be to try and find the right words to say what I really mean, when I'm being constantly intimidated by surroundings with which I am unfamiliar. Deep breath now. I can only be myself.