the getting there

oh dear horsemouth's neglect of his dental health has finally caught up with him. he thinks he'll be ok. he has an appointment booked for tomorrow and a strategy to get him there. (paracetamol, clove oil,  hot water bottle)

once he's got that emergency done then he has time to sort himself out properly. he has taken the first step on the road (like he did recently with getting a GP again and actually going for tests).

he still has his circle/squaring/ getting things to add up task to do. he found he couldn't watch anything (he tried the cornell woolrich thriller 'the chase' but he rapidly realised he had watched it before. horsemouth has just read the plot description. he remembers it now).  

having survived until the morning (god he really is a hypochondriac and a drama queen) horsemouth is now waxing philosophical about the whole thing. he has turned down the offer of a brisk walk in the cold air (cold air seems to set it off - just in time for the cold snap) so TG is probably round for a tea in a bit. 

the trick is, horsemouth opines, to try to enjoy the ride more, we cannot guarantee reaching our destinations, our hopes and our dreams, but if we can learn to find more pleasure in the getting there. that will do. 

horsemouth has uncovered a memory from when he was visiting funky kingston. the journey there and back took forever. the first time he went he was rained on solidly all the way from the station to the college. they'd just had a giant new library building built (horsemouth has to say the collection and the building were rocking).