Go to your happy place.
My happy place, or one of them, at any rate, is depicted in the photograph above. It’s the view from our favourite holiday spot. We are boringly predictable when asked where we’d like to go on a holiday, but it’s always the South Coast. I wouldn’t mind being there right now. When I look at this photo then I am there a little bit in spirit. Just look at the detail, right down to the ginger cat wandering about the garden. And notice the swing-set under the palm tree on the right. We have spent many a happy hour canoodling on that swing. We honeymooned at these particular flats, and have been there three times since. It’s our little home away from home. But this year we’ll have to content ourselves with the photo’s. Thanks to the trials taking up so much of Michael’s leave, we’ll have to pass this year. But I’m sure the beach will still be waiting for us in 2008.
There we are on the beach, Oct 2006. I always get accused of being short, but please note that it’s only because Michael is so darn tall. He’s a honey though, isn’t he?
I’m feeling so skippy and mellow. That horrible anxious feeling I had at night is gone. Yippy! Well, mostly. It’s such a relief. I just can’t worry about crime anymore. Can’t spend my whole life worrying about it. All I can do is trust and hope that it’ll never be a factor in our lives. The anxiety was chemical related. But I’ve been ‘clean’ for a month and a half now. My face doesn’t look puffy anymore and the rash on my back has finally disappeared. Please let the Fingolimod kick in good and solid so that I don’t have to go down the slippery slope of IV steroids again. That’s my wishbone wish for tonight.
My hip is vaguely sore where I bashed it against the gym floor. Stupid thing to do, really.
I’m pleasantly tired now. Time to go snuggle up to my hot-water bottle (a.k.a. Michael). Winter has been dragging its heels in getting here, but I understand there’s a mean cold-spell on its way.