At The End of the Day It's Another Day Over

It's a struggle, it's a war
and there's nothing that anyone's giving
another day standing about
what is it for?
One day less to be living!

I'm tired. It's been an exhausting few days. Everything around me is swirling in chaos as I'm too tired to take stock and do anything about it. There was the 10-year death anniversary dinner that I got lost trying to attend (Chubs left his sat nav for me and it led me to the middle of nowhere and cheerfully announced, you have arrived at destination) which ended at about one in the morning (we would have left sooner but the sky opened up and the rains came with a vengeance).

There was my day wandering around One U with Esther (who has now moved to JB so I have to catch up with her when I get the chance which I don't anymore) that had me literally crawling with fatigue and then there was about five hours at the hospital this morning with the D-man for his checkup which dragged on and on and on (and is still not over yet because his red, swollen eye is in a precarious state and they've referred him to another doctor and next time he has an appointment, I am not going to have an assignment on the same day if I can help it)...and after all that, there was trying to get into the middle of town on time, find a parking place in an unfamiliar building, and getting up to the 31st floor on time.

And then there was the elusive interview with the guy who had been so difficult to get and arrange - and then, who would not stop talking even after the interview was over, no matter what I did (like shutting my notebook, thanking him, saying, well, that was very enlightening...).

I decided to go buy some Nando's after the interview because the D-man had a very crap quick lunch and I wanted to get him something better for dinner. He objected strenuously (Nando's is expensive, just get me chappati), I said no, Nando's it is...which would you prefer the burger or the chicken? And then got home, forked out his angry mango which he munched contentedly while watching the BBC, had mine in the dining room, while simultaneously feasting on Tess of the D'ubervilles, and then, worn out, I decided I would take a nap.

I was aware that I needed to get up (my face was still plastered with make-up and I hadn't brushed my teeth) but was in one of those slumbers where I simply couldn't. I just lay in bed, paralysed with sleep until, I can't remember what, finally woke me up.

And then I was thinking...oh boy, the interview to transcribe (but I won't do it tonight) and another assignment to go for tomorrow evening and I got an email from one of the people I work for asking if I could file a travel story by tomorrow afternoon.

Um no, I can't. I didn't interview anyone and I'm too tired to conjure something out of thin air. There is something enervating about the air and although I'm up now (it's exactly 1.08am here, I'm drooping apace and I want to get back to Tess but I don't think I'll finish her tonight).

There are so many things I want to do.

I guess I will have to go back to to-do lists, because without them NOTHING gets done.

(Bilbo is weeping in my head, he's saying I'm sorry I got you into this Frodo my boy, I'm sorry for everything...)