Proud and Alone

Back to the treatment routine today. The break of three days seemed longer. My times this week mostly have a 12 in them, which is more awkward than I'd ideally prefer. I didn't know it at the time, but this also turned out to be a week of delays, which drew things out and took up an even greater chunk of the day than it should have.

I walked down to Rathgar after my treatment. On the way, I passed this garden and was struck by this lone tulip out in the middle of the lawn. Rathgar is what would be considered a desirable neighbourhood, and there are certainly some rather nice houses around St Luke's. (Some day I must remember to point the camera at some of the choice property in the area.)

What happened when I got home? I don't really remember, I'm afraid, so it can't have been terribly exciting. Last night, I'd made a bit of a mess of setting a reminder about the repeat of Homeland, which I'd missed on Sunday night, so I phoned Carl to arrange to watch his recording at the weekend.