Monday, 19 October 2009

Monday 19 October 2009

A brief interlude in my recital of recent adventures. My partner goes to the hospital first thing tomorrow, to find out if she needs to have most of her left breast removed.

A short while ago, I asked her how she felt about it.

"To be honest, Jazz, " she replied, gently stroking my head, "I'm f***ing terrified."

Now, my partner is NOT a potty-mouth. So, from this, one of two things can be inferred:
  1. She has developed some Tourette's-type, toilet-tongued condition, which manifests itself in occasional random bouts of foul language; or
  2. She is genuinely frightened.

I suspect the latter. Either way, I will be there for her - come what may.

Next up will be the concluding instalment of the thrilling tale of my late escapade.

Good night.

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