The infuriating business of trying to keep calm

Uncle Steve again for breakfast. Lorraine microwaved some porridge for him, till it exploded. Then Lorraine off to Eastbourne with Maureen for occupational therapy discussions about showers. Steve hung out with Pat, then made his way home. I had enjoyed getting to know him better. 

I spent the morning working on the Kenniad, also getting ready for tomorrow's journey. Also wasted hours having ordered some diazepam from the surgery some time ago. I like to have one with me just in case when I am flying.  After three visits to the pharmacy, three visits to the surgery where just before close of play,  my doctor appeared to explain that I couldn't prescribed this, due to the fact that they couldn't be insured in case someone was drowsy when they needed to escape the plane. Infuriating waste of time.  Meanwhile an email from Auringy saying that there might be a problem with the flight tomorrow. 

Home from the futile business at the surgery pausing to quaff a  pint, and buy some fish and chips. Home, and we packed. Guy Fawkes night -- assorted fairly mild mannered crashes and bangs, and a smokiness about the air. 

Meanwhile the backdrop to the day being the US presidential election, surely they can't elect Trump again. To bed late, listening to assorted people talking about it. Afterwards I lay awake till two in the morning feeling generally bent out of shape.