Too Much Information

After my pointless rushing around this morning (which I suppose wasn't pointless in that it got me out of bed, washed and dressed at a reasonable hour), I felt low. So low, that I was momentarily even tempted to text The Ex. Bad idea, I know. And not, I might add, even a serious consideration. Just a moment of madness in the midst of a cloud of loneliness, knowing that if I did send a text, I would very likely get a response. I know that is not a good or honourable reason to initiate contact with someone from whom I have distanced myself out of choice and for good reason too. It's not fair on him and it doesn't reflect well on me, my self-control, or my integrity. BFTP talked a lot about having integrity that doesn't change based on how others act and it has stayed in my mind.

I know that I am feeling low and so I text The Mrs. instead. I know she has started her placements again, so I am not expecting a reply, but I tell her that I just needed to text her to stop me from doing something stupid. I tell her that I am not coping very well with things at the moment and am feeling low and just needed to get it off my chest. I feel better. A minute or two later, she calls. She is at home. She is working a late shift today, which doesn't start until the afternoon. She chastises me for even contemplating texting The Ex. This is exactly the reason I needed to talk to her. We talk for a while and she tries to cheer me up. She offers to talk about her ex and how stupid he is, but I don't think even that can cheer me up. I was wrong. She tells me about him contacting her yesterday to tell her all about how in love he is with his new girlfriend. She tells him a few home truths that crack me up and soon send him packing. I love that she is slowly getting over that difficult period of her life and I am really pleased that she seems to be in a much healthier relationship with the New Boy. I hear him in the background because she catches him trying to listen in to her conversation and they laugh while she sends him to the other corner of the tiny flat. I like how they interact together. They are a cute couple and I hope they can get past all the difficulties and stay together. Eventually, she has to get ready, but tells me she will call me on her way home from shift. She tells me that things will be OK and reminds me not to contact The Ex. She instead jokingly (or not so) gives me permission to contact NY Guy, but I decline. We laugh and then sign off. I am still feeling a little bit low, but I feel loads better already.

After looking at a few jobs online (optimistic), checking my emails (pointless) and watching TV (distraction), I know I should get off my arse and start doing something more worthwhile. So, what to do today? I know, I'll go and get a smear test! Yay! I'm so not kidding. OK, so the enthusiasm is made up, but I really did go and do this today. I'm due one and it made sense to see if I could get an appointment while I'm off work. I wasn't expecting they'd have an appointment today, but they had a cancellation, so what the hey.

Before my appointment, I decided to go on a shopping expedition to hunt and gather for my family using a combination of minimal funds, coupons and a £1 voucher. Yes, times are hard. The news today reported that the recession ended in May. Yeah, not mine, mate. Anyway, I had to get the bus to go and buy some foodage and try and get back in time for my appointment. I tried to remember my mental shopping list of items (which was relatively easy, considering how short that list actually was) and tried to revive my mental arithmetic skills as I calculated my running total while I shopped. When I went to pay, my card was declined. My mental arithmetic is clearly not up to scratch. I had the shame of removing a couple of items and was relieved when it went through the second time. Luckily, I had a very sweet cashier lady who was understanding and had a kind face and didn't make me feel like an utter chav.

I just missed a bus on the way back, but true to form, another one was 5 minutes behind it and I got to the surgery with 10 minutes to spare. I sort of needed the loo, but didn't want them to call me when I was in there, especially since when I checked in at reception, I was informed that the nurse was running on time. I also didn't really want to carry all my shopping into the toilets with me. However, after waiting a few minutes I thought I should probably go. There were two unisex doors and I opened the first door which was rather heavy and managed to walk in on some poor boy having a sit-down wee. His blank expression is etched on my mind. I closed the door, saying "Oh, sorry! Sorry darling," feeling embarrassed and hoping I hadn't scarred him for life. It may just be me, but I have an unnatural fear of/aversion to people walking in on me while on the toilet. But it's quite possible that I'm just odd.

After successfully finding the second cubicle child-free, I did my business, washed my hands and came back out to the waiting room with a minute to spare. I needn't have bothered rushing, I had to wait another 5 minutes before the beep and my name on the display indicated that the nurse was ready for me. Smear tests are not my most favourite past-time, but I think I may just have had a particularly uncomfortable experience with my first one that seems seared into my memory. Since then, they have been very quick and relatively free of discomfort. The nurse was very sweet, conscious that I might be feeling uncomfortable or nervous (which for a change, I wasn't) and was very gentle and quick. The results don't come for a few weeks and then hopefully that's it for another 3 years.

I headed home and put the shopping away. The day has been productive. Ish. On the grand scale of productivity, perhaps it hasn't broken any records, but based on my mood this morning, I'd say I've done OK. I've realised though, that I've written a post about bodily functions, banal shopping anecdotes and generally the kind of things that probably no-one really wants to know about. I may have reached a new low in my blog writing. Some days are just like this.