Who would have thought it would be so hard to find a Reading-based Gestalt therapist that doesn't cost the earth? Why is it so hard to do anything without a car outside of London? Why can't I find time to do the things I love doing? I am turning into a blob through lack of exercise and my brain is beginning to transmogrify into a heaving sticky mass of purple blancmange. My fingers are forgetting how to type. I keep dropping (and breaking) things that don't belong to me. My mind is being subjected to stultification. I haven't even been meditating. And I forgot to eat lunch. And I am cold. And there is no milk.
Okay, so I'm feeling very, very sorry for myself. I'll snap out of it shortly. I will. I have to. Things can only go up when they're down, right?
I have now eaten an egg on toast and I am going out to buy milk. And chocolate.
the random ponderings of an ordinary person
No comments:
Post a Comment
Lovely to see your thoughts.