Sunday, 12 February 2012


I’m a nervous wreck. 

A pacing, jittery, intensely worried young lady. These two men are responsible: 

1)     My puppy, Sonny. He’s gone and got himself pneumonia in the cold winter weather, and is so awfully ill that he’s been on a drip at the vets and has been touch-and-go for the past few days. He’s only 3 years old, the poor thing. I feel so helpless and upset that he’s ill and I can’t do anything about it but feed him medication and keep him warm. 

2)     My boyfriend. He’s going for an operation tomorrow and although it’s an in-and-out procedure, he’s still undergoing full anaesthetic and will be recovering for weeks. I can’t bring myself to think that it’s a good thing knowing he’ll be hurting afterwards and covered in big, purple, bruises. Just the thought of him feeling awful afterwards is bad enough, never mind what I'll be like as the operation is in progress.

I’m going to worry myself sick if I’m not careful.

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