localised showers

It was a day that started off badly. I was woken up at 5.20am to do work that should have been done a day before. I then slept one hour at a time (between work bits)  before ultimately throwing myself out of bed and into the pool. A boys' school group arrived and the first 5 minutes of bliss in a crystal pool became a spa pool of so many deodorant smells it was a sea of teenage angst. The guy who hit on me at the pool a few weeks back apologised at the scene of the crime - he had been about to abduct me back then - so it was kind of appropriate - we had a surprisingly reasonable conversation. 

Breakfast was at the usual suspect, diggies with a surprise friend. We chatted about all and sundry, including the medical dramas developing during the week, in the pleasant breeze of a perfect spring morning. I had a breakfast of bircher muesli mixed with with yoghurt, marinated strawberries & cranberries. I was surprised at how good the cranberries actually tasted. I'll order that again.

My breakfast buddy invited The Frenchman & myself to a tapas dinner back there in the evening with some of her friends after we'd mentally re-landscaped her garden. It was all over too soon and we were both off to work again. I arrived at the hospital, dropping my phone on getting out of my car to promptly step on it. Perfect.

With one patient I asked about how long she'd had the cancer affecting her liver to which her partner interjected (or should I say, lectured me) that she didn't know and until right now no-one had told her about it. He knew of course. There are so many things wrong with this scenario that I don't know where to begin. 

At gym after work I had an unexpected gym buddy. He was doing pretty much the same routine as me, running, then weights then abs then stretching. We'd chatted quite a few times there and at the pool - sexy man I might add, and it was great to actually spend some reasonable time chatting about life & loves in between the puffing and sweating. 

Dinner back at the regular was with my breakfast buddy, The Frenchman and 3 as yet unknown diners. We stayed until there was no-one else left at the restaurant, enjoying conversation that was sparking on all cylinders right to the end. I could easily do this regularly. I find out later that they in fact do do this every Friday - and we're welcome to join in the tradition. 

It wasn't such a bad day after all.