I’m lucky enough to have a reasonable amount of flexibility in the hours I work as well as the locations in which I work. When I work longer hours than planned it’s usually not too difficult to plan time off in lieu. After a hectic week I took yesterday off and somehow I think I’m even more tired now.
My GP was meant to call first thing so I’d arranged to take a friend to Kingston for a gentle pootle around. Life being what it is, the call didn’t come until late in the afternoon so our decision to head out anyway rather than wait for it panned out.
I’d promised to show Lady T the art gallery I’d found earlier in the month, and we ambled around coffee shops putting the world to rights in a gentle and sunlit afternoon.
By contrast, the GP conversation around referral was a bit of a slog, and as draining as I’d feared. I’ve been quietly worrying over the last few days about it all – and hearing a read back from my notes of my mental health treatment history was difficult. On the one hand it was a testament of stubbornness and progression. On the other a series of blows endured.
I’ve spent a significant portion of my counselling session this evening sorting through both aspects and their nuances.
Perhaps it’s not surprising therefore that today has been one of near shutdown. I shall hit the gym tomorrow.
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