So once again I had no idea what I'd done with the plastic box I keep all my diabetes stuff in. I remembered I moved it when I went across to Julie's place -- but did I bring it back?
I looked in my house, I looked in the car. I didn't find it, but that was no guarantee it wasn't there.
So the next morning, after staying in bed late, I finally got over to Julie's place to give the 21-year-old cat her tablet. Couldn't see anything but I wandered around for a bit ... and there it was next to the kettle. I must have put it down when I stopped to make myself a coffee last time I was there.
I took a long overdue injection of Byetta, made myself a sandwich and took my diabetes and blood-pressure tablets. Felt a bit better after a while, sat and read for a bit. (THE INHERITORS by Jill Dobson)
Think I feel well enough to go home and start on some housework, throwing out the moldy bread and rotten fruit that has become such a part of my everyday life in recent times. Julie's house may not be perfect, but it is closer to meeting minimum standards for being habitable than mine is.
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