Today is Groundhog Day. Most treatment days are Groundhog days for me. I know the drill and give or take a few hours, everything is the same. I am on repeat. Yesterday, I stupidly forgot to pack my headphones, and it is that tedious, that I had to go to the local electrical goods shop because the prospect of three hours without headphones or conversation was too much to take. It was £20 well spent and I enjoyed the five minutes walk to Tottenham Court Road. I discovered that near a hospital, the general public are more considerate of people with walking sticks.
As I was waiting yesterday, I noticed more of the interior design on the second floor of the centre. Not only do the colours clash, there is a hint of space about the furnishings and the architecture. I am thinking more ‘2001: a Space Odyssey’ than ‘Avatar’ here. The central area looks like a set of 2001, all open spacing with red peculiar shaped chairs. I actually like it. The treatment and the waiting is cumbersome, but I find the space relaxing, especially in the rain and out of the reception area. It would make a good low budget film set, providing the cast and crew are snot free. Perhaps the NHS should consider this for all its hospitals instead of the privatisation of services. They are selling New Scotland Yard, so this must be possible, there are many hospitals. Think about it Jerry.
Back to the now, I have been entertaining myself by taking photographs of the scenery and imagining that I am on a spaceship or in a galaxy far, far away. It really is a time killer and means I have to be slightly inventive with the camera, which means thinking.
Unless you have spent a considerable about of time on the 2s; this could mean nothing.
There is a chance that my entire week’s blogs are going to be like this, if that is true,and it means that if all my thinking and writing is gibberish, I am not depressed. You do not have to read them. They entertain me and that is enough.
Clearly a spaceship
Clearly a bunker in space covered in an alien ant farm
Clearly a distant relation to the book ‘The Hungry Catepillar’
Clearly an emergency release for the space pod, or maybe the spaceship’s folding bed
Clearly a head protector for under the astronaut’s helmet and erm, a horn
Clearly an intelligent alien’s track marks or even more clearly and less far fetched, the floor of our spaceship
Clearly space foliage eaten by the Ewoks
Clearly an oxygen tank for babies being cleaned
Clearly a section of a control panel
Clearly Darth Vader is dead
Clearly a section of my spaceship’s ceiling
Clearly an air vent of sorts, maybe in the toilet
Clearly an alien’s tree
Right, that killed a good hour. Good work, me. Utter nonsense.