I have a cold.
A stinking cold.
Not swine flu or anything melodramatic, there's no need for panic and isolation, it's just a cold. I feel like poop however. So I'm going to bed.
In the morning I'll get up early, run the hoover through, and finish tidying ready for Nelson's Journey to come tomorrow afternoon.
AC was asking about the accident again tonight. Again, I told him what happened, reinforcing how quick it was and how accidental it was. He knows the inquest is next week, and that's fine with him, he has chosen not to go, which was better for him than me telling him he wasn't going. I know that attending the Cremation, walking in behind the flagged coffin, sharing in the Celebration, all those things have made the transition into a Rich-less life much more palatable. He is managing. We are managing. We are a proud Forces family, we don't need that which is not ours, and although we have been denied that which is ours by moral right, (and I'm not talking money, but never mind!) we are ok with that, and can forgive those concerned.
Well, we can work on forgiving them anyway.
That's more honest lol.
Anyway.
Bed.
Whislt I can still walk.
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