A headache cups my eye socket. It's been vaguely here for days. The Panadol keeps it's whispered threats empty. It's one of those things that will take a mile if you give it an inch. It's all about pain management, people.

Maybe it's the weather. A delicate flower such as myself might be susceptible to the pressure changes the anti-cyclone has wrought. Lord knows it's brought enough cold air with it to make us realise how Winter should be. Frosty morning one day, fog bound one the next. I'm glad it left the rain though - these clear, blue, cold days are really quite beautiful.

Apparantly.

Or so I hear.

I'm going to go out in the World tomorrow. I waited all day for feedback from a client. It never came. Tonight I found out that's because she's in Australia. Nice to know these things. I'm sure she'll be hunting for me tomorrow while I'm in some sheltered spot soaking up the sun's rays through my eyelids.

My initial plan to spend an entire Thursday in bed-with-a-book has been put on the back-burner for a re-think and Plan B: Operation "Go Outside" has replaced it.

I had a test-run today by going to the Post Office. I cooled down by seeing Spiderman 2 - I didn't want to over-exert myself with too much sunlight all at once.

There was a part in the movie where Peter Parker aka Spiderman was questioning his destiny. We see the tormented Peter from outside his tiny, tidy room through clean, closed, paint distressed French windows. He asks himself why: why can't he have the things he wants; why can't he be happy; why can't he have MJ and be ordinary. He wonders whats wrong with him and how can he have all the things he wants in life. It was in the sensitive silence following this soliloquy that David's voice whispered beside me "well, you can stop talking to yourself all the time for a start"