Nocturne

Ankle pain so skewering that I managed just one hour's sleep. Lay awake all night with my window open, listening to people swearing in the Twitten. At 3am the mad bellowing of drunken homeless people coming from by the station, cacophonous seagulls, the soft roar of the steet cleaning vehicle passing up Queens Road, a woman coughing and retching at the end of the alley, decorative birdsong and cats fighting and, eventually, the first footfalls of commuters heading to the station. A disturbing nocturne.

Got up at 6:30 in too much pain to sleep, so worked for a while. Got Mindy up, who was sleeping on the gold sofa. Realised I could hardly walk again. Cup of tea with Mindy, who then left. Felt sad to see her go off to a frankly horrid week.

I used my hiking stick to make it to the doctors. Still not sure what's up, although the best bet is gout, triggered by a viral infection. Obviously had to walk on excruciating ankle to get to the doctors and pharmacist. Home and with leg hurting like a bastard, set up laptop and worked downstairs feeling groggy with pain and sleeplessness.

After work, couch potatoed and watched Dexter and Frasier. Talk about a contrast. Spoke to Mum and Lorraine. Got an email from Jane in Guernsey who has done well in a recent poetry competition.

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