My arse

I used the last of my vacation allowance to take this week off, but it hasn't been what you might call a successful holiday.

There have been too many weekends where I've been required to work, which has left me tired and run down.

I had a cold nine weeks ago, but the cough is still with me. At times my chest is so tight I can't speak, while at other times I feel I'm drowning. I've been told its time to get that checked out - find out if I'm becoming asthmatic, have allergies, a chest or sinus infection, or something altogether worse. A sore has developed between my buttocks, which makes standing up, sitting down and walking all ghastly painful. I'm on antibiotics for that, but to be truthful it seems it is the painkillers that are having the biggest effect.

To cap it all, I'm due to see my consultant on Monday for the results of all the cancer follow-up tests I had last week.

All of this has left me a bit fed up.

Meanwhile the big bad world outside my window has gone white. The snow arrived in Leeds last night, laying an inch within an hour. Leeds Council is replacing all the orange sodium vapour street lamps, putting in new lamp posts which have white Philips CosmoPolis bulbs. The streets around here have all been done. It was suddenly apparent to me when I looked out at midnight that the night time orange glow I grew up with is gone. With the white light from the new street lamps reflecting off snow and clouds it simply wasn't dark outside last night.

It is unclear what the weather has in store over the next couple of days, but I'm hoping the Leeds/London trains will be running ok on Monday. I really want to get my test results. Having said that, the nice people of the RMT and TSSA unions have decided to press ahead with their planned strikes, so there'll be no tube service in London on Monday. With my chest, and my arse, and this weather, I really am not looking forward to the walk from Kings Cross to Harley Street, and then over to St Pauls.

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