Woman In A Suitcase

Healthwise, things are sort of chugging along.  All the medications seem to be doing their respective thing.  In just under three weeks we (work) all fly to Sunny Climes for a conference.  I have been organising it long distance.  There have been months of The Hosts just sending ragged emails full of ellipses saying things like yes...we are doing all that you would wish...yes, without any indication of what, exactly; and phone calls with one person on the phone not knowing much and somebody shouting across the room at him.  I'm sure it's all going to be fine.  Come payday I am buying a big suitcase.  If everything goes wrong I will hide in it.

In other news I continue to further the cause of international lack of relations.  Put it this way, next time a young man asks me to go for a walk, I'll suddenly develop a pressing need to do anything else at all.

There has been decided recourse to chocolate over the last few days.  In Carrefour I bought profiteroles, a massive bag of crisps, some Dairy Crunch and a large courgette.  I can only guess what people thought.

Home with my balanced provender and there's a letter from the bosom clinic.  Something a bit terrifying about holding your future and it's all in Dutch.  Not looking at the screen, I put the first paragraph through Google translate.  The word geen appeared twice which I took as a good omen (it means no).  Although it could have been part of a sentence which said "no point you thinking about Christmas".  Thankfully, my prodigious bosom has the all clear.