I went to the bed and breakfast yesterday afternoon, I set the alarm on my phone in case I fell asleep, I watched some television and had a shower and rested, then I reluctantly dragged myself out into the bad weather to go and help with the quiz.

wild wind and pouring rain, some people didn't come out in the weather to join the quiz. When I got there my friend was selling raffle tickets and taking entrance fees, I helped her by folding raffle tickets and putting them in the pot.
she and I didn't join a quiz team but we unofficially did the quiz as we folded tickets and counted money. when supper arrived halfway through I helped serve supper. Supper was very nice, chilli and rice.
The quiz made a lot of money, it was fun.

The quiz was held in a church not a pub, and as we worked, my friend looked up and said 'oh goodness, Jesus really needs dusting!'
There is a statue of Jesus high up in the roof, and with the light shining on Him you can see a liberal coating of dust.
I said 'you had better tell the Vicar that Jesus needs dusting' then I couldn't stop giggling, she said that it would need a long duster to reach Jesus.
A few minutes later a little piece of paper floated out of the church roof and into the middle of a group of astonished quiz contestants, they looked up, and I told them it was a note from Jesus asking to be dusted. Yes, this really did happen!

The rain had eased when it was time to go, my friend offered me a bed for the night, but when I said I already had one she said if I wanted a bed on Sunday night then I was welcome.

I walked back towards the bed and breakfast, I walked down 'dangerous road', this is apparently one of the most dangerous streets in Britain and people have been killed in fights here and this is where I saw a pool of blood one morning. It is only dangerous two nights a week really.

As I walk I hear someone yelling my name, I turn round expecting to see V. coming to tell me something exciting. But it is P. ! P. with too much stubble and his face hidden in a hood, he comes over and asks if I have missed him, he tells me he has been in London and that he has been having great fun in Hackney and joining in all sorts of things.
I tell him that I have had so much hassle from the homeless people saying I slept with him and caused him to leave town, he says WHAT? He asks who the ringleader of that was and I tell him, he tells me that she is jealous because she came on to him and he turned her down, he reminds me that he is very selective about his girlfriends, he is, I remind him of the time in the daycentre when a very promiscous girl was being very obvious and leaning over him with her breasts hanging over her top and trying to persuade him to cuddler her and he didn't even look, he just told her he wasn't interested.
He says that it takes a lot of effort to be like that when you are a man, he is right, I respect him for it.
He is heading back to London on Saturday, he asks if I want to stay over tomorrow night, I say yes, I say I will bring my feather sleeping bag, he says thats fine and he will tuck a duvet over me as well.
We hug and part company, I had thought all that time that the police had got him for fighting, but he seems ok, he just said that he needs a break from this town sometimes, I agree, I need a break from this town sometimes, nice as it is.

I start being sick as I walk back to the bed and breakfast, I don't know why, I didn't have any alcohol at the quiz, but I just have this habit of suddenly being sick sometimes, I have medicine for it but that is running out. I was sick on the steps of the bed and breakfast, I tried to aim the sick onto the garden but failed, so I washed it away with a bowl of water. I hope the manager doesn't see that on CCTV and think I am a drunk, I get on ok with him.

I go in the bed and breakfast, it is a bit late for the quality tv watching that I hoped for, so I settle to sleep. I sleep well, I dream that the Bishop who condemned me has taken on one of the big houses that I worked for in the past and I am still working there, when I go to him for instructions about my work he starts blurting out embarrased excuses for the way the church treated me (something he would never do in real life) but my mind is on my work and I say to him 'I am going to clear the copse today', he mumbles on, 'can I take the tractor?' I ask, looking down at the straggly trees of the copse and the long dead grass, he mumbles and mutters and blurts about the church, I look at the tractor and trailer, the Bishop and his words aren't of much use to me even though he seems to be evening things out a bit with his words.

I wake up wishing I was going copse clearing with my little tractor and trailer. I have such wierd dreams that someone said I should write a book about them, but when I am indoors I invariably dream very vivid church related dreams, I am just relieved it wasn't really a nightmare.
I get up and I stagger, I know that the anti-inflammatory gel isn't going to solve all the problem, and I hope that I hear from the hospital soon, I need a new bandage for this leg in the meantime.

I woke up very relaxed but I have the 'indoors headache' from being in a bed in a warm indoors room, I put some anti-inflammatory get on my neck to stop it hurting and I take a painkiller, I just have too many pains and problems, I should be put to sleep really.

I have a shower and give my hair the rare thorough wash that it deserves, then I have some peanut butter on toast and a cuppa, and venture out into a bright cold morning, the rain and wind have calmed down.

I go to the market and grab a cuppa, and I pay them 50p I owed them, they said they had forgotten all about it, but I hadn't because I don't like owing anyone anything.

Here I am in the bright  noisy library, I wonder if there will ever be a solution to 'indoors' headache', I used to get it often when I actually lived indoors, because I need to be warm to sleep but I get too warm during the night and it causes me to seize up and tenses my head and neck and leaves me sick.