Radiotherapy starts next week. I and I have been to-ing and fro-ing about who was going where for a visit. I would rather she came here, easier for me, but then again, she works, so travelling 4-5 hours here when she finishes work at 6pm is no joke. Not to mention that I may not be up to travelling down south post radio if I get the one usual side effect from it, which is tiredness/exhaustion. So I made a management decision. I was going there.
As always the drive to Bury St. Edmunds was fine. 4 hours door to door. Not bad at all considering it’s 260 miles.
I is sharing a house with 2 gay blokes. 1 is lovely. Very, very sweet lad. Kind, caring, friendly. He calls I his wife. His family like her. What a shame he isn’t an option for a partner. The other bloke is a different kettle of fish. The general feeling is that he’s autistic. Certainly, I’ve taught kids that have been diagnosed with autism that have less symptoms of the condition than he does. He has few social skills, is unable to make eye contact, has no conception at all of the impact of his behaviour on others. Yada yada yada.
I and I shopped and generally chilled out. It was nice just to do normal stuff and not have to dash around and be busy. I miss her company living so far away although paradoxically, too much time in each others company and we start bickering and sniping.
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