It’s been lovely weather, and I’ve managed to clear some dead leaves from my drive and mow the lawns, but oh, I need a holiday! I have so much work and it’s relentless at the moment. This week has been busy, but the coming week will be even more so.
On Monday I prepared for my GP surgery group, and ran it; they work so hard, and enjoy it so much, that it’s a joy for me to do. I finished writing up the session with my other GP group, mowed, and answered emails. And more emails.
Tuesday was a hospital day; this always refreshes me because of the unfailing courage and kindness of the people I meet. I cleared the leaves, and wrote up the hospital stuff and the Monday GP stuff, and prepped for the Friday GP group, and finished and sent a play adjudication report.
On Wednesday I wrote another play adjudication, and spent hours and hours on Poetry on Loan work. And answered more emails – I finally caught up with all the emails left over from the previous week, when I was away. I sorted through all the mail, too, but I still haven’t actioned it all.
Thursday was a prison day. My guys are writing a play. It’s good, and very funny, but unfortunately we won’t be able to put on a performance; two of them are being released at the end of April and we won’t have time to get it ready, but I did get permission to bring in my voice recorder so we’ll make a CD of it instead. And I sorted out a visit to the prison by a poet, and was asked to write a piece about staff achievements. I did have to queue for 25 minutes afterwards to buy petrol, but that’s not so bad as it was for some people. In the evening I prepared for a meeting on Friday….
…with the lovelyKim Hill; we are working together on some consultations for a care home inBristol. We work really well together, and after a couple of hours we had a good plan for some work we will be doing tomorrow. I wrote this up, then ran my other GP surgery group – our last one before the Easter break. In the evening I went to see a play in Nailsworth, which I have to adjudicate; there was another on Saturday, too, in Wotton-under-Edge. I managed a little retail therapy over the weekend, but also wrote most of the adjudication report for the Nailsworth play.
And I had a phone call with my mum, and now I have a dilemma. I’m always one for seeing the best in people, but my mum told me of a conversation with a man she had met in the park while walking her dog. He said he was a psychic, and told her that my late father “worked with numbers”. She was impressed by this, because he was an accountant. He went on to talk to her for a long time, introducing several points that they had in common. Now, as far as I’m concerned, anyone who says they are a psychic is lying – you’ve only got to see Derren Brown a couple of times to know how easy it is to appear psychic through careful reading and trickery. Should I say to my mum that she should be suspicious of this man? I don’t want to; I want to think the best of him – but suppose he is one of those people who preys on elderly ladies? Hmm. Just another thing to worry about, I guess, and there seems too much to worry about at the moment. I have a holiday booked but it’s still some way off; I wish I could just go tomorrow.