smokingboot

I shouldn't be in such a bad mood. Last night's bash was pretty cool, everyone was great, I ate well, felt as though I looked great, danced like a fool, etc, etc.

Tonight I feel down because a) my computer is total crap and needs replacing, b)a friend has asked me a deep question, which means I need to think with purest intent and I don't know where to begin or something like that. Maybe tomorrow. Yeah, tomorrow, I can hardly wait.

Tomorrow looks like a great day. First, sort out travel insurance claim, then talk to the Inland Revenue about my tax return and receipt that lived in my bag until said bag was nicked, then luvverly work and then a trip to the doctor. I hate doctors and this is worse, because it's actually more scary than the smear test I am due.

Doctors, fuh. I haven't had a smear test in 10 years, I feel fine, and I have doubts about anyone who makes a living poking your private bits. But it's sensible to go, and I have great chums ready to give me lots of support. But tomorrow is different and scary and being scared makes me angry, which is better than I was yesterday afternoon, i.e weepy. I'm scared enough not even to dare put down what it is I'm scared of. I'll write it tomorrow.

I am sick of the list of gruesome physical things waiting for me to pay attention to them.

First, this visit to the doctor.
Then the smear test.
Then the polyp. Now, this damn thing doesn't do anything at all, and it's perfectly safe, it's just they would like to remove it by using an injection, and I can't stand the frigging things.

Ah yes, and then the dentist. I am due a filling. He wants me to have an injection, cos he's 'never seen the need' to use gas. There is no point using the word 'phobia' to this maniac cos it's only one of many basic concepts he can't quite grasp. I'm waiting for him to suggest looping string around my tooth and tying the other end to a lawnmower.

'Oh, you just don't like injections,' they say. That's right. My mouth still contains antique 70's metal grey fillings, I've had a tooth removed and an abscess treated late, all because I don't like injections. Just awkward, that's me. No such thing as a phobia. Then you go into shock and get rushed to hospital, semi-comatose. 6 hours spent on the NHS, a terrified dentist, an awful lot of gas, no overnight bag and an NHS overall for a nightie. it's not a cry for attention, it's a stupid, pointless waste of time.

I don't need some quack to say (or even think loudly) that I should pull myself together. I pay my taxes, and I'm entitled to be a brat about it. Sort my teeth out, sort my body out, make it painless, scarless, cheap, quick and effective. Then I can safely promise not to bother the medical/dental profession for the next ten years. Or something like that.

Hmm. OK, I'm a bit frightened. Time to go think about something else.