The change in recipe that means San Pellegrino lemon is a shadow of its former self.

Someone must have seen my posts on this thread as they have taken to letting their dog shit on our drive (right by where we get out of the car) and along the ginnel that runs down the side of our house.

Time to set up a sentry…

Seeing the lead and harness for my dog, who was put to sleep the other week, hanging up in my ex’s house.
It’s the law that I post a pic of her (the dog!)

When our cat comes in to the house she always meows for a bit.
She never used to do this,then her brother got killed.
I always say “Hello daft cat” while thinking “He’s not here”.

People flying for weekend getaways, football matches, concerts.  I know it’s none of my damn business but my heart drops whenever I hear someone talking about their new electric car and then saying they’re flying off for a couple of days :(.  Yes there isn’t an ideal solution and life shouldn’t stop but life is going to stop unless we can get it sorted out

The change in recipe that means San Pellegrino lemon is a shadow of its former self.

Glad it’s not just me. The ingredients list used to pretty much be “Fizzy water, lemons, sugar” now it reads like any other can of fizzy pop. And tastes like it.

Seeing my daughters sad face when she has not been invited to her friends birthday parties due to junior school parental cliques (she’s only 6!!)

Being alone with my own worries and stresses.   Its well documented here that I’ve been trying to overcome flying fears, yet with an upcoming return flight to the US next week I’m at peak anxiety.

After all these years getting treatments and seeing professionals, it appears no-one around me believes I actually have an illness.  I’m struggling to cope with the worry heightened by the time of year & weather I’ll be flying in, have considered various options even resigning tomorrow to get me away from this constant struggle of having to fly, with no control over my own destiny or decision making. I’m getting no family support, just being told to “deal with it” and “I’m a fake” basically for agreeing to fly in the first place.

Frankly I’ve no idea where to turn and have no help.   I sat in a hospital car park today (I did actually have an appointment) shaking at the thought of getting through the next few days as it ramps up to the flight itself, its just not the life I want.

No idea where to go from here TBH but yeah, I’m sad about the whole thing.

Thats really sad tintim 🙁

Stayed with a mate in the west of Ireland recently. He told me of a previous owner of the house. His fiancee had gone to London to train as a nurse. He waited and heard nothing for 10 years. Then he found out on her first day in London she was run over and killed in a RTA. Not a little thing but dreadfully sad.