Crazycrone (crazycrone) wrote,

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Much Schlepping...

I had to go to therapy, with thoughts of JC being cremated this morning grimly hovering over my head. He's ashes, now; gods, it's so unspeakably weird.
When I got to stinking Streatham, there was a fellow 'client' loudly freaking out in reception. She said somebody was supposed to repair her fridge-freezer, and she wanted stationery immediately so she could write a letter to 'the King' to complain about the attitude of the admirably composed receptionist.
Bebopalula seems to think I'm doing fantastically well,all things considered. Wish I could agree. I could be worse, though, that's for sure.
Did the shopping and stuff for R Next Door afterwards, and felt very weary. Lots of stuff on TV tonight, anyway, to distract me from morbidity.

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