Going out after even two days in bed feels like rejoining the human race in slow motion. With a stick every wet leaf feels like a siren call to A and E, everyone else bustles about at warp speed, while I creep along avoiding leaves.
I bump into someone I know who tells me how well I’m looking (maybe ask don’t tell?) and wants to have coffee next week. When I tell him I’m off to see Mum, he comments that I go down there a lot. I haven’t the patience to explain, so simply say that she’s not going to be around for much longer and every visit is precious. I realise I may have been over harsh by his reaction, oh well.
A bit of shopping then a coffee and croissant as a pausing manoeuvre. Feels very odd to have the ‘real world’ humming around me, conversations and people with things to do and people to see. Not quite rejoined the human race yet.
But a glorious piece of hake from the market should see me right this evening.