Tomorrow Is another Day

As I stepped out of the warm, comforting & light church café building, the wind blew furiously onto my face. In a state of agitation, I confidently put one foot in front of the other and walked up the road. I passed the White Swan pub where a few people were outside having a drag on the fags which they knew weren’t healthy for them but would help them relax.

Knowing that I was on a mission to go and buy some stamps, I continued despite my psychotic symptoms which were prevalent. And then I bumped into him- the last man I wanted to see at that moment in time-my specialist.

“Hi, you’re looking so great, you’ve lost so much weight” he said happily.

“Oh great, I can’t tell him how bad I really am” I thought, the poor man’s on his lunch break and the last thing he’ll want to do is discuss medication.

So, in a rush I blurted “Oh I’m seeing you next week”, I then proceeded to keep calm and carry on buying my stamps.