Ok . . . I've said it.

Just a quickie then . . . well I can't say I failed as that would imply that I tried. Maybe that's why I didn't try . . .  so I wouldn't fail?
I have no idea why I didn't try?  Really I've not had time to think about it yet I suppose. All I know is, it was a good day. I woke up with some energy, got the lads out, then spent 5 happy hours with Hamper G cleaning out the hamsters, checking their babies, chatting to and "voicing over" them, finding new combinations to accommodate the "newly discovered males" before we have any more accidents and generally enjoying the little swines. Flew through a few of hours cleaning, washing, cooking, bathed hamper G and  . . .  texted my dealer. Fool. Everytime a bit of me even tried to consider the option of not texting/phoning it was as if another part of me, stuck its fingers firmly in its ears and La La La La'ed very loudly! No. Not listening. Ner Ner. Fool. That's about as much as I can say happened, as that is what happened. Why?? . . . On a good day like today. No stress. None. And that's a rarity. I even prayed today would be easy and productive as I was well aware that a stressful, lethargic day would be the perfect excuse. So Why? If today wasn't right, when will be?

I am reluctant to say "I need to be forced to have a night off to make me realise it is not so hard" as it's likely to happen if I do. So why not? The trouble is, those rare times that I've been forced to go without (drought or gear just not being available) although it is what I've prayed for/wished for/wanted/needed, some twisted logic says this is not for the best, not the right way, it's being forced on me and will NOT work. No way. It leads me to panic and convince myself that I need to get gear. It has to be here, then I can say No. My choice. Yeah, right. Hideous and wrong. Because it does work. It's happened before and after ruining most of  my evening texting or calling users and dealers whose numbers no longer exist, jittering about, chain smoking, forcing a sniffle despite extra methadone, cursing and fighting this rare opportunity, knowing I won't get a result because this is meant to be, I finally go to sleep . . .  I wake up feeling brighter, looking better, moving faster, singing (?!) louder and realise I survived, I slept more soundly and saved £10/£15!

So ok, I know it works, it will happen and it will be for the best . . . "I need to not be able to score, to be forced to take a night off and see that it's not so hard after all" .

Any idea how many times I highlighted that line ready to delete?