The self pity cup runneth over

Mondays are grim, no getting past that. Reminds me most forcibly that my old life is gone and the new life, well….And today the weather is damp and rainy which means the bones are aching. So the self pity cup is in serious danger of running over.

Get up and decide briskness is the answer, so have breakfast and shower and get myself out and walking to the library. Generally try not to take painkillers as I’m on so much medication already but today is not a day for counting tablets and once they kick in I feel less like a creature from the Natural History Museum and something approaching the human. Can’t imagine how bad dinosaur arthritis must have been.

Immediately feels better to have the gentle rain and wind on my face. Find a Dorothy Sayers I haven’t read, minor triumph. Get the bus to meet a good friend for our cultural Monday outing, at the National Gallery this week, only to find that the exhibition we wanted to see finished…yesterday. We console ourselves with the extraordinary permanent collection. Angels and Madonnas, cherubim and seraphim wow us once again. Bones aching so I sit and just stare at one of my favourites, the Crivelli Annunciation.

We go for lunch and there’s nothing much I can eat, too many veg and a curry (just thinking how that might react with my rather frail digestive system makes me laugh). So I choose a rather odd combo of smoked salmon sandwich and creme brûlée. Works for me.

Good conversation with old friends, a morning looking at inspiring paintings and all is pretty much right with the world.

The self pity cup no longer runneth over.

 

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