Sickie Cyclist

I am officially sick of being sick. I finally dragged myself to the doctors today, after a lengthy period of trying to home-cure myself, and have got hold of some drugs (yippee). I now have official paranoia that this is a recurrence of last years health problems (requiring the chop shop), and have fairly well convinced myself that my current symptoms are an early sign of doom, and that I should be carted off to hospital ASAP. However, when I tentatively suggested this to the doc today, he just looked stern, and said "lets not overcomplicate things, shall we?". He is so old, he shuffles stooped into the consulting room, and looks like he might require urgent medical treatment himself at any moment. I find this a little unnerving, as it's not dissimilar to trying to tell all your personal problems to your own grandad.

However, these are but minor things, and otherwise all is well with the world... went to see Naz and Boo at the weekend, which involved lots of looking at wedding photos. Boo just looked GORGEOUS and FLAWLESS and AMAZING in every photo, which made me a little envious. I also saw Dion, for the first time, since he did that asking-me-out-and-then-running-away lark, that frightened blokes are wont to do. He is still Dion, good humoured and completely immoral, and inadvertently reminded me how things do generally work out for the good, in the end. The idea of going out with him now seems pretty ludicrous, when so many better things are on offer.