The drugs don't work....
.....Actually they do. I have stopped twatting about with my mental health and returned to the embrace of SSRIs. My splendid doctor assured me that I was not being weak or not trying hard enough. I have a chronic condition that is relatively easy to control with one pill a day. Four calm and happy weeks have proved this.
In other news, we had a few days in Yorkshire with the dog. It was as fabulous as ever, majestic scenery, lots of weather and plenty of time with my favourite husband. Bliss. The dog collected many samples of Yorkshire mud and ran himself stupid on the moors.
Back home and plans continue for the subsiding conservatory to be demolished and something splendid to be erected in its place. Our architect has confirmed that our shite local council will use up every day allowed by law to process a planning application, no surprise at all. We are lucky enough to be served by the notorious council that has almost bankrupted itself. When you are governed by a failing body such as Northampton residents are, you tend to assume that all councils are prone to glorious acts of mismanagement and huge cash-guzzling vanity projects. We all know times are tough so the sensible thing to do is build a splendid new HQ for our glorious council to reside in. We don't need to worry about trivia such as childrens services and care of the elderly, hell, if we wait long enough the kids will be grown up and the elderly will have died! Rant over.
My darling husband has had a nasty dose of manflu, much mouth breathing and sighing. Being such a kind soul, he has shared it with me. Funny how manflu turns into a slight cold when it infects women...
I did some housework and collected all Keith's scattered bones and chews together. I think he is trying to build a dinosaur.
In other news, we had a few days in Yorkshire with the dog. It was as fabulous as ever, majestic scenery, lots of weather and plenty of time with my favourite husband. Bliss. The dog collected many samples of Yorkshire mud and ran himself stupid on the moors.
Back home and plans continue for the subsiding conservatory to be demolished and something splendid to be erected in its place. Our architect has confirmed that our shite local council will use up every day allowed by law to process a planning application, no surprise at all. We are lucky enough to be served by the notorious council that has almost bankrupted itself. When you are governed by a failing body such as Northampton residents are, you tend to assume that all councils are prone to glorious acts of mismanagement and huge cash-guzzling vanity projects. We all know times are tough so the sensible thing to do is build a splendid new HQ for our glorious council to reside in. We don't need to worry about trivia such as childrens services and care of the elderly, hell, if we wait long enough the kids will be grown up and the elderly will have died! Rant over.
My darling husband has had a nasty dose of manflu, much mouth breathing and sighing. Being such a kind soul, he has shared it with me. Funny how manflu turns into a slight cold when it infects women...
I did some housework and collected all Keith's scattered bones and chews together. I think he is trying to build a dinosaur.
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