You Wouldn't Think That A Pifflng 6 Extra Hours A Week Would Make That Much Of A Difference...

...but they apparently have.
     Coming to the end of my second week as a 36 hour-er rather than a 30 hour-er, my body (feet in particular) doesn't know what has hit it; just that it doesn't like it, at all.

It doesn't help that the area of the store that the staff use (affectionately known as Out The Back), which has been added onto my already crowded rota, is deliberately kept at a temperature that is uncomfortably high for me. The radiators - which I am not allowed to touch. I checked - are all on full blast. Nice for the Store staff as they change in and out of their uniforms and/or use the loo and/or lounge around in the canteen during their breaks, but not so nice for the poor schmuck (right now, me) trying desperately to clean them and everything else around them.
     By the time I finish, I am drenched with perspiration.
     A sexy look, perhaps, on a bikini-clad waif modelling sun lotion.
     Less so on an overweight cleaner bearing a mop.

Anyhoot, that's been my week.
     And the week before that.
     And probably the next two weeks afterwards.
     And possibly even longer than that.

.....In other news, the choral concert is this Saturday coming.
     Tonight is the first of two Town Hall based rehearsals, starting, as usual, at the earlier time of 7-PM
     If the last five first Town Hall based rehearsals for the last five concerts is anything to go by, as well as starting half an hour earlier, it will also finish at least an hour late.
     Which considering how I am feeling right now, is just great.

.....In other other news, The Story has hit a wall. Other ideas for other Stories have taken this opportunity manfully and with gleeful abandon and have started not so much prodding me as hitting me across the back of the head with a plank of wood. Hard.
     I will stay strong.
 (OK, I did crack and write a bit of one of them out, admittedly. But it was only half a page, and then I made myself stop. Other than that I will stay strong.)

.....In other other other news, MJ still isn't fully stable, even with the medication. He is better, but not as level as any of us would like.
     The doctor has requested he attend an hour long appointment with the Mental Health Care Team next week, to "fully assess the situation and discuss options to help him move forward with appropriate support".
     As these were the same people that had a hand in him being sectioned, he's not thrilled with the idea. He has agreed, provisionally, albeit reluctantly, because as he angrily (and rightly) pointed out in the car on the way home, had he refused in all likeliness that would have been used as an excuse to have him "assessed" at the hospital anyway, by force.
     I am going to go with him. If my hours return to normal I should be working 12-4PM, but probably I won't be; I'm doubtful that Supervisor will be back at work until 13th April (she's signed off sick until the end of the month definitely and has holiday booked for the week starting the April 6th. If I were her, I would give myself the extra 7 days in between to make sure I was better, but perhaps she will see it differently).
     Anyway, if she is back, I'll explain and make the hour up later in the month. If she isn't, I'll be working 6-12NOON to cover hours left by One-Notch-Above-Useless-Collegue1's 3 day holiday from Wednesday to Friday anyway, so it shan't matter.
     Either way, I'll be going to the appointment.
     MJ is frightened about it. And having been sectioned 3 times in the past, who can blame him? Certainly not me.
     I'm pretty frightened myself to be honest.
     We'll see.

.....This year for Christmas I think I shall ask Santa for a worry free month. 28 days with no worry at all, about MJ or Mother or anything or anyone else.
     That would be nice.
     Wouldn't it?

 Alice x