Post-Impressions on a Hot Day

I've hit the Van Gogh stage now.  I remember this from last time.  Basically all I have left is a bed and two chairs.  Oh and a computer.  I'm sure Vincent would have had a computer.  He'd be on Facebook all the time arguing with tossers, and posting cat videos. 

It is one week today, my departure, and the terror does not subside. The only thing is, in this heat (today was around 40 °C and tomorrow likely higher) it is hard enough getting through the day, so the terror becomes a sort of subsidiary theme.  It feels like something you've forgotten to do.  Of course, I may well have forgotten to do something.  At least the extreme heat gives me an excuse to stay in tomorrow and go slowly through my undone tasks.  I will be mainly naked and sitting next to a fan.  

This week, my friend S was so amazing I cried.  I asked if she would help me take stuff to the dump, and move boxes down to the garage.  The dump was great fun, hurling stuff into a massive skip.  But the boxes:  it seemed I just could not go down the stairs with them.  Just after I moved here I fell going down the stairs, carrying a box.  Missed my footing and went down very hard on both knees and one elbow.  Fortunately nothing was broken.  But now, standing there with a box, I froze.  So S said I should just get them to the top of the stairs and she would do it.  All 25 boxes, carried down and stacked in the garage.  She was like a superwoman!  So grateful to her.