Today has been Georges day. After yesterday he deserved it. We have been to a place called Pitlochry where there is a whiskey distillery where we were able to take a tour and stock up Georges fav night time drink, what he refers to as tonic. I would like to have bought him something but being penniless, short of partaking in a bit of shop lifting, which would not have fit well with my new image, I wasn't able to.
Everything feels like wading through treacle now, it's becoming a struggle to even get a smile going whilst cuddled up on an evening. They keep saying how I'm little miss wonderful and how I've made their holiday so special, yet my increasingly imminent heart busting departure doesn't appear, on the suffice at least, to be having any impact on them at all. I hope they haven't been saying all this stuff just to gee me up or something. Writing that makes me think I should be angry if it were true but all it seems to want to do is make me cry. Huh - I couldn't even get angry with them even if they cheated on me it seems.
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