One more day to go before payday.
I have got by and thanks to a mini miracle I actually am having quite a good end to the month.
I feel the usual sense of relief. I know in a day and a bit my month’s wages will be in the bank.
My mind is doing its monthly spend on silver sparkly curtains, good quality grey paint and of course the savings towards the new kitchen. This is a monthly “mind-spend” which never materialises. The first day I buy nice groceries and even some clothes – by the end of the first week I am back to the usual struggle and unworn clothes are returned.
I have a telephone appointment to discuss the residential programme. Now that’s it is payday and I have survived, recovery has lost its urgency. Residential treatment doesn’t seem so necessary. I feel I can do it alone.
I guess I have a bad infection of stinkin’ thinkin’.