Sometime life just blows!

I got a call from dad and mom tonight, dad's having his prostate out on the 11th I almost didn't tell them about my latest medical diagnosis, but then decided I can't ball them out for not communicating then do it myself.
I don't know how much longer I can keep the facade going at work before I loose the plot completely and start running around making chimp noises and shredding the curtains.

Is there anything worse in the whole world than a frustrated, uncommunicative Scot? It is a s clear as day that the boss is stewing up a storm but he won't share it with anyone. We're up to one and a quarter million for the building and he has yet to think of showing the plans to anyone.

I wonder of it's just male naievety or serious insecurity? Whatever! I'm sick of trying to convince myself that it is all OK unless I get hauled over the carpet. It is a lot like the ever present "Damoclesian Sword" Mr Hurry used to go on about in English lectutres.

I e-mailed, and blew off the previous bike owner and now feel like a prize shit! all over $184.40.

It is really scary to dicover that the one thing that can get me passionate and irrational is not the future or prospects of a national sports team, political party or worthy cause, but merely the belief that some poor blighter is trying to stiff me $184.40!! How sad!

I think I'm going to have a third gin, in bed..alone of course! Maybe the money I've saved from the clutches of the nasty man will keep me warm.

God what a drama queen! I think it's time for my happy pills again!