There's something happening here...

and indeed, what it is ain't exactly clear.
I stand on the verge of another night shift, filled with the trepidation that comes with knowing there's a good chance someone will try to vomit on you in the next 14 hours. Still, my mood continues to improve, and for no apparent reason. This is both pleasing (because I no longer feel depressed) and frustrating ( because I have no idea why I no longer feel depressed). Maybe my brief wrestle with the concept of my own mortality has done the trick; or not. Recently I have become worried about what to do when my parents die. This is wretchedly morbid, but I know the day will come, because it comes to us all sooner or later - unless, of course, one or both of Ma and Pa Shroom are bionic, and haven't told me. But I'm also concerned because I'm a grown adult, so apart from the emotional trauma, I should be able to get on with the actual living of my life. And yet somehow, I fear I won't be able to. As if somehow there absence will expose me as a fraudulent adult, blagging his way through being a grown up.

Bollocks to it. Too much of that sort of thinking is what started me off in the first place.

More from the night shift to come...