I can't do this. I can't do it. I just can't.
The bank have just been on the phone asking about the status of our account. I can't cope with those kind of phone calls. B is doing it, mostly; but some of them are bound to come to me, either on my mobile, or whilst he's away.
I didn't mention that he'd blacked out at the weekend, did I? He got out of bed to go and sort out Leo and went down backwards like a sack of spuds. No memory of what happened, just woke up on the floor with an aching shoulder. Low blood pressure, obviously. But not something he usually suffers from.
We are both reaching the end of our collective tethers now.
I am going to shut the chickens up and then go to bed and try to get some sleep. It's better than thinking.