Friday

Its Friday 11:31 here in America, 4:31 in England. I've decided to give Radio 3 a whirl, and let some classical  music wipe clean the shit house of daytime TV. My body is rebalancing itself, the drugs seem to have settled in.
Last night I wiped out listening to some conspiracy laden show, on an online radio station i'd never heard before, Dark Matter Digital Network. I woke up convinced that a lot was going on in the shadows, that we all knew it wasn't right, but that mentioning it would be a mistake.
Abbey woke me up and I came down stairs. The morning news came on. A stage set in a sterile, over bright room, filled with irritatingly perky, club dressed people, trying to look upset as this morning's slices of disaster rolled in.  Watching the struggle between Botox  and their attempt at emotional connection, it was really quite moving. Just not on their face.
Music putts way happily in the background, as I try to work out if my level of irritation at bullshit is a sign that the MS drug does work? It does, indeed.