Well I woke up late, good job Gordon rang to wish me well. Sorted out some emails and realised anxiety has kicked in. My nerves seem to have settled in the lower half of my body and I am suffering from what polite people may call intestinal hurry. If there is a lull in the onslaught I'm offer to see my barber Frank, who dispenses haircuts and psychotherapy. He has been genuinely worried about my weight for some time. He cant fit past me when I am sat in his antique barbers chair. he thinks I'm off for the gall bladder, as his shop is always full and a full discourse on bariatric surgery has been impossible. I've been going to him on and off for 26 years, as people who know me can testify his psychotherapy is miles better than his haircuts.