A single unpleasant incident can bug me for hours, affecting my mood, sprouted a thorn in the back of my mind *grimace*. Been havin a realy bad rash for the past few days. Last night, I must’ve lost a good few hours of sleep cos of it. I decided to see a GP. Problem is, I’ve been removed from my previous General Practitioner (GP)’s list of patients because I’ve moved out of their coverage area in Fallowfield. Now I gotta get a GP in the city centre area. So I strolled along to the one near the Gay Village, on Bloom Street, as directed by SS, in high spirits – yup, was in a great mood today.. Was sounding the doorbell just as a lady who’s presumably a nurse at the clinic, approached the door form outside. She blatantly told me that they’re closed for the day (it was freakin 1.30 in the afternoon man!!!!!!!), and that I need to come in tomorrow. With my passport and a proof of address (which is limited to only utility bill or tenancy agreement). F*** the British and their stupid proof of address bullshit! Identification cards are a blessing…
And that was what kept me seething inside for the rest of the evening..up till now.

And there’s the nagging feeling that I’m becoming such a pushover (unrelated to the GP incident)...

‘Tis disturbing thoughts…..