Disclaimer

Though a "Diary" my online diary is a work of FICTION.

It may at times strongly reflect actual events of my life, often how I honestly perceived them and display my genuine reactions. But not always and everything contained within should be treated as a fiction.

This is also a personal diary, so by reading it you are violating my privacy. And as it is a personal diary you are not allowed to hold anything you read in it against me, as you shouldn't have been reading it anyway.

Also, this diary is not to be read by anyone who has gone out with me, would like to go out with me in the future, or suspects I may like to go out with them.






Click Here for the old site, as backed up by Wayback Machine (I have gone with the 2007 version as it is the latest that is still before vodafone crunched a bunch of my files)

Tuesday, 7 April 2020

Coupla calls

I had a semi early morning call from my counsellor.  Just to check I am surviving.  Was a nice chat, he is a good sort.

Then minutes later a nurse from my doctor's office rang me for a relatively long discussion of how my health is being managed in general.  I kept having answers that didn't fit the form she was following because of the joy of the poorly handled chronic health problems.

And then after that the daily call from AskOtago, where I conceded I have lost motivation and stopped doing much (or any) study.  I have two assignments due this week and do not know what either is on.  One is due at 11am tomorrow, will have to get up in the morning and pull finger.

An I got rejected for the Countdown Priority Assistance service, so I am not realistically going to have much chance of getting Cuntdown delivered groceries during lock down.  Which is irksome, especially as the reason they gave was nonsense.  I guess they have had too many sick people apply and have to be harsh cunts.  Will need to hunt and find other services, or keep making my dad leave stuff at my doorstep.
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