I was going to blog all about the proposed end to prosecutions for crimes carried out during the Troubles in Northern Ireland, but then I realised that my opinion would not add much to the debate and also I might then have to clarify, like, ALL of my opinions on the Troubles, which would take time and is unusually serious for such a frolicsome blog, and people would become bored, and the only result of all this may be that people would be like 'o but she is only 25, what does she know of what went on', little suspecting that I can read history books and have access to a whole range of educational media.
Safer ground would be to talk about how mental I am, of course, so I'll do that instead. I've been feeling a lot better over the past 5 days or so, which is always excellent. Remind me, beloved blog readers, to make an appointment with my GP before I troll off to Swedenmark. I'm going to try and convince then to put me back down to 20mg. The side effects of reducing a sanity snack dosage will HOPEFULLY act as a kind of dress rehearsal for coming off them entirely, which of course is the ultimate aim, although after a year and a half, it will not be an easy task. I was considering donating various bodily parts the other day, as you do, and realised after discussion with trolleagues that with being on medication, I probably can't donate blood currently. I thought this might make me happy, because the idea of giving blood utterly terrifies me and this would be a wonderful excuse rather than 'even the thought of doing it makes me feel a little bit dizzy with fear, no can haz my blood kthnxbai'. Actually it made me a bit sad. There's probably all sorts of stuff you can't do if you have been diagnosed as a Nutcase. The only two I can think of are joining M15 and the RNLI (as lifeboat crew), only the latter of which I'd like to do, but I bet there are loads of other limitations. Luckily, you can be as mad as you like if you're a translator, and also, I can still donate bone marrow if I ever psyche myself up to it. I saw something about it on the news and they were interviewing this lass of about 18 who said it didn't hurt much more than giving blood, and I just thought that if she could do it and be so casual about it, why can't I too? I might have to wait till the thought of it doesn't make me go woozy, but overcoming fear is something that a mind can be taught to do. So the doctors tell me.
LOL I am off to Swedenmark SO SOON. We are to go to Tivoli and troll round Copenhagen, and then Rhian tells me she is putting me to work on the allotment on Sunday. Maybe I can bury my passport and tell the authorities (or Wallander, as I'm sure 'the authorities' in Sweden is also known) that it is lost and they'll be all like 'LOL no probz blud, just stay here and have this great house, we shall adopt you'. I imagine that's roughly what will happen.