I fear my friend has taken massive umbrage at my request not to bring the dog with her this time. There has been no response at all. I'm torturing myself now, wondering if I could have phrased my text message better, if I sounded as if I was rejecting her. The last thing I want to do is upset her, or any of my friends. I am far too sensitive for my own good and this sometimes makes my spoken or written words seem clumsy, as I'm so busy falling over myself, trying to say the right thing in the right way. All I have ever wanted is to spread a little happiness amongst my friends, be sunny, cheerful, sympathetic, encouraging and accommodating, but there are times when this isn't enough, or isn't appropriate. In this case, it's Flad's happiness that has to come first.
I now have a rotten cold that's filling my head with gunk and making my ears buzz and my brain weigh as heavy as a sodden mattress. My eyes hurt and the itchy rash is back on my chest, so I have had to leave my bra off. (Haven't done this since the '60s, when my boobs were considerably firmer and perkier than they are today!) My spirits briefly soared when I got two emails from the Lottery people saying, Good news about your ticket! Oh wow, I thought, at last! The big win. I'll be able to buy the home of my dreams. But alas, it was a measly £10 for last night's draw, plus £2 for Dream Number. £12 won't even buy the doorknob. Rats!