I don't want to play this game any more.

Had a crap couple of days and I just don't want to play any more. It just never stops does it? You get through one thing and something else just pops up.
Dad's back in hospital. Exeter this time. It was suppose to be routine but has turned out to be more complicated. So now he's not coming out till Tuesday.
Jamie had his consultation with his neurosurgeon yesterday in Plymouth. He was running and hour and a half late! Still at least they have decided to finally go ahead with the shunt now. They have been humming and haring for three years about this. So one hurdle might be crossed at last.
We're going to have to call his sleep councilor in again. He's gone back to more bad nights than good. We've just had a 2.30am followed by a 4.30am.
The silly season is kicking in now and Richard has started dashing about all over the place already. I keep telling him to slow down and not cart all those heavy laundry bags around. But will he listen? So I'm bracing for another heart attack.

Then last night one of my mums oldest friends called. She's kind of a third aunt, I've known her all my life. She's lovely. And she called to say she also had cancer. And because mum's at Exeter with dad guess who's going to have to tell her the news?

I've decided that trying to be happy is just too painful. Every time I try someone pulls the rug out again. I'd rather spend my life already sitting on the floor. Then, at least, when that rug starts to go I won't get any broken bones, just a couple of extra splinters.