Sorry bloggypeeps, I keep forgetting to write the blog.
I will go back to Friday and see how much I can remember.

I enrolled on a Maths course on Friday, it will be Friday again before I can do the assessment and start the course, which will get me to a decent grade GCSE equivelant.

On Friday night I went to soup kitchen but I was fed up of being pawed and pushed about by the addicts and fed up when the staff took to asking me, in front of everyone, where I was sleeping. So I got rather cross, I also got worried about how irritable and snappy I am getting, the depression is deep, and I have had too many traumatic events recently, the hospital ordeals, the bogus counsellor, the being flooded out and the attempted assaults and threats by the addicts.

I took the advice of the daycentre man and didn't try to pitch my tent as I get too distressed, I slept where I have been pitching the tent and was perfectly comfortable, but didn't sleep deeply. Waking in the early hours is becoming a habit again.

Saturday morning, I move quickly and leave nothing but a little puddle to show that I was there. I get the first bus into town and go to my locker where I go through my routine of stashing bedding, taking my meds and getting what I need for the day.
I have a wash in the toilets and go to McD's for my breakfast.
Then I spend most of the day in the library as there is no daycentre or outreach open.

In the evening I read my book until the daycentre opens for it's weekend evening outreach, I chew some supper and have a shower and read my book, but I don't enjoy being there, and there is the usual problem with drunken immigrants getting kicked out.

I get the bus to my sleeping place, I sleep undisturbed.

The first bus on Sunday morning is quite late 8.10am, and I am up by 6.15am, so I play on the playground gym equipment, doing some light exercise, and I get the cheap newspaper and read it and I play games on my phone, I am used to having to pass time.
I get the bus and go into McD's for a bagel and a coffee, it is Sunday after all. My friend is absent from early communion and I go to have a wash in the toilets.
Then it is time for church, I have been looking forward to it all week and a bit nervous that my hopes will be dashed and it will be horrible.
It is not horrible, it is lovely, I get to church and start drinking tea, an elder comes up and asks about my week, I tell him it has been a struggle, he asks more and I tell him. He says there is a food parcel for me, and he goes to get it, it is a hefty parcel. He asks if there is anything more that the church can do for me, I ask if they can pray for me, he says that after the service they will gather some people to pray for me.

Other people come to greet me and chat, a couple invite me to have lunch at their home after the service, yes! at last a Sunday afternoon not spend miserably waiting for the evening to come with nowhere to go.

The service is the usual, good. Afterwards one of my friends adds to my food parcel and arranges to collect me for lunch club picnic on Tuesday.
The elder and two others pray for the problems I have been facing with the alcoholics and addicts recently.

Then I go with the couple to their home, they have invited another lady too, and we have a good meal and lots of chatter, then I embarrassingly start dozing, the combination of tiredness, a good meal and a warm hous makes me dozy. They tell me I am welcome to doze, I end up asleep for a few hours.
When I wake up we go to the evening service and afterwards the church puts the olympics closing ceremony up on a big screen and we have coffee and nibbles and watch the ceremony and chat.

Then it is my bed time and I go to get my bedding and scoot up the hill because I have no money left for bus fare. I bed down in my old drain and no-one disturbs me as I sleep snugly, I wake vaguely in the early hours for no apparent reason and sleep again.
I get up at 6.30 and stash my bedding. There is an immigrant sleeping nearby, I pray he hasn't seen me as that would put me and my bedding in danger.

I go into town and get a cuppa, then I start an adventure that I don't want to start. The daycentre in town will close for two weeks soon, and I have to take myself to the out of town daycentre, walking, to familiarise myself with it, I have heard good things about it but I am nervous of it and the walk.

I manage to walk there, and find it easily! I am interviewed, as new clients always are, and one of the fist things the lady says is that she wants to see if there is a charity that will help with the costs of an agent to get my life story published! I am amazed!
She takes a list of things I will need, clothes, food, a spare sleeping bag, and gives that to the stores, and I line up for breakfast and a cuppa, breakfast takes a long time to arrange here, half an hour, but I get lots of tea.
I am asked if I want a hand massage, I have had this at another daycentre, it is a comforting therapeutic thing, much needed safe physical contact and soothing of tense muscles, she does my back and shoulders as well, I have a shower, change some of my clothes and get my breakfast, then I read, drink tea and have lunch, the new daycentre will be good for me, and I leave with my bundle of new things and get a bus back to town, stash things in the locker and come to the library for music and blogging and reading until this evening.