Oooh, my head!

I didn't get as much money as I wanted for my sofa on Ebay, and it was generally a day of annoying niggles. I felt crappy.

'Feeling crappy is normal.' Steve said. I did see his point of view. But I felt really crappy.

'I feel crappy.' Steve's email continued. 'I have a headache, I'm tired, my back hurts and my feet too.'

I felt bad for bothering him with my, 'I feel crappy' email then. But I felt really crappy.

I read on. Hoping Steve's emailed words of wisdom would help.

'It's called having a bad day. We all have them,' he said.

Wise words indeed.

But I felt really crappy.

I opened a beer. I checked the BBC website, West Ham were losing against Palermo in their UEFA Cup match.

I felt really crappy, and I knew that Steve's concern was that I'd take this to heart and use this to think myself into trouble. I was worried about that too.

I wrote back to tell him to take paracetamol, and to drink lots of water.

He soon replied, to say he was fine. 'I was saying all that stuff in a fun kind of way.'

I was relieved. But I still felt really crappy. The problem was that this bad day had started to make me think. Thinking was dangerous. I turned to Steve for help again.

His email said, 'I just wanted to tell you to write this off as a bad day, and the fact that it was a normal bad day was better.'

But I felt really crappy.

'Don't worry. Have a beer. I have £2.01 riding on West Ham to win. And regardless of that I'll send over nice thoughts again.'

I had a beer. I tried to switch off my head. And West Ham win would make a nice end to this post, but I never thought that was going to happen. Just a bad day. I felt less crappy at the thought. Just a bad day.

'I'll write later regardless and tell you how i got locked in the toilet. :o)

Love,

Steve'

Everyone has bad days. :-)