But before then, back to work.
I thought I had slept well, though had another dream which featured me having a last minute posting to the Falkland Islands. This despite me not having been in the RAF for neatly 14 years now. My subconscious makes nearly as little sense as my conscious.
Jools had one more day off, but I had to go back to work. She laid asleep, while my brain woke me up at six so I could get up and make coffee, breakfast and feed the cats.
Jools says she will go out shopping, thus leaving me at home to attend meetings and deal with mails and the usual stuff that takes up all my time during the day. And after she brought some shopping home, she goes to catch a bus to take her into Canterbury, so I am alone once more.
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I go to sit on the sofa, and somehow I had caught the attack early as I could not see the flashing lights when I closed my eyes, just when they were open. I gave it 20 minutes and all seemed fine.
So I went back to work, and all seemed fine.
But something nagged, so once I had sent my last mail at three, I switch everything off and just sit in the half dark of the late afternoon.
And then I went to prepare lunch, and almost straight away came a huge migraine. Flashing slights; globes, streamers, all bright and vivid. So bright I could hardly see enough to chop up the peppers for the hash. It ends as quickly as it started, but I feel that I should cut out stuff on the computer. So, after writing the New Year blog, I switch everything off, read a bit, then go to lay on, and then in bed, to listen to the evening games on the radio.
I stay awake during the build up, but as soon as Man Utd v Newcastle kick off I fall asleep, waking up at half time with the game at 0-0. Man Utd run out 2-0 winners, thus winning all four of Ole's first four games. There were even more smiles.
Apparently.
Anyway, time for bed.
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