Doctor can't see me until tomorrow 9am. "Take a paracetamol", the secretary advised. TAKE A PARACETAMOL?! Would I ring if I could take a bloody paracetamol? What is it with Dutch GPs? They don't have open surgery, they're never on nights or weekend duty, they don't do housecalls, and they can't just write me a prescription when I ask for one, but insist on seeing me first? Don't they have a fucking duty to help those in need when they ask for it?

So, I've got 23 more hours of excruciating pain to get through -- however will I fill my time? I know, I'll try and do my taxes. They were due April 1st, but I got hopelessly confused and then someone said "what are you worried about? as long as it's done by the end of the year, it'll be fine!" Maybe I should have questioned that remark more closely, but you know, taxes; not my favourite thing to be worrying my pretty little head about...I came home yesterday, and there was the dreaded blue envelope from the Inland Revenue. "First and final warning: do your tax assessment now (on my desk by next week) or face a 1000 euro fine, you slacker you!"

Would it be too early to conclude that today is not shaping up to be a good day?