Instead, I went to give a blood sample at the surgery - which went off without mishap, this time - and then Judy drove me to the Churchill to talk to the people at the Maggie's Centre about benefits. That was a bit of a waste of time: it looks as though I have too much in the way of savings to qualify for any income support - not enough to live on, though, ironically - and, because of our irregular living arrangement, trying to claim housing benefit would just stir up a can of worms. Or open a hornet's nest. One or the other.
Maggie's Centre is in a rather dilapidated Portakabin and a bit depressing; it had something of the air of a battered women's shelter about it. I suppose it does its best. As do women's shelters, who don't tend to have money to spare on cosmetic enhancements.
We had to walk all the way through the Churchill to get to Maggie's, which is an awfully long way, and I was exhausted by the time we got there. And then we tried to walk back round the outside, which took even longer. And that was me done for the day.
Tim phoned again tonight - very briefly, but still: it's nice that he cares. I don't have that much in the way of family.
Many friends, though, so I am not allowed to whinge. In fact, I am never allowed to whinge, unless there is something good and worth whingeing for. Since I'm feeling quite a lot better today than I have over the past few days, there isn't. So I shan't.
"I am very tired" is merely a statement of fact, not a whinge. So there.
