Well, this is me for the next 28 days.
I’ve somewhat settled into my “therapeutic retreat” at Cassiobury Court in Watford, the socially acceptable term I have chosen for rehab.
On the plus side, I am heavily medicated so feel relatively calm considering the events that led me here.
I won’t go into those details yet because the drugs seem to have killed my ability to see the dark humour of it all…and to be honest it’s not really that funny.
Well, some of it is.
For my stay – and bear in mind I had packed under the influence of a lot of vodka and red wine – I decided my essentials were as follows:
- Four pairs of pyjamas
- Three pairs of jeans
- Two sets of toothbrushes and toothpaste
- A handful of my absolute worst underwear ever, including a pair of control-top underwear (because looking slim is important, even in rehab, thought idiot me)
- Two “nice” tops…in case we dine out somewhere?!
- Two pairs of socks
It’s not an entirely ridiculous list but I have more pyjamas than clothes, and have already run out of clean socks.
Those underwear I packed were the emergency underwear I had to buy at my last hospital stay and they neither fit nor are comfortable, even by underwear standard.
Actually, considering I don’t remember really getting here, I was quite sensible in my approach.
My goal this week: more socks, more shirts, and more sweatpants. How I will acquire these I don’t know but I bet it would be the first time Asos has delivered to rehab.
And if it is I’m about to give one delivery guy/girl the biggest laugh and hey – that’s a positive! Well done me for making it here, and giving someone a laugh in the process. I feel better already.
No, wait, that’s the sleeping pill…