what a day today. Sometimes I think I am losing the plot. other days I think I have lost it, or maybe not lost, but it has definitely slipped down the back of the seat and got mixed up with the mints from the sushi bar and the old 5c pieces down  there.
I once had a Volvo. I mean people do, it is a doctory sort of car, if only because it belonged to the father of a colleague of mine before he gave it to my colleague, who sold it to me and we are all doctors. Well the children of the previous owners had spilled a big box of cereal down the back seat. I am talking about an American big box of cereal which could feed a small Tonga for a year. Actually maybe not Tonga. They are pretty big but definitely Nuie. I think the cereal was called cherios or something, and they were small and round. Well after a serious hoovering the back seat seemed to be devoid of cherios but I although these things were basically inedible, as all american cereals are, they were clearly alive because they began to reproduce and every few days fresh batches af cherios would reemerge in the back seat like a replay of the first amphibians crawling onto land, only to be swept away by the hoover a few days later.
Well the plot is somewhere down there with the organic inedible breakfast cereal.

If that doesnt explain my mood swings I could blame the coffee. I am too stressed at present and am attempting to limit my coffee intake to every other hour in order to keep my heart rate below 150. This is difficult because over the years my natural response to any stressful situation is to have a coffee. The baraistas are so busy just making coffee that you are compelled to talk to people that you have not talked to for 10 years even though you went to medical school with them for 6 years and work with in the same building every day. I like to discover that they are at Fuel for the same reason as I am, for stress relief. Fuel is the only part of the hospital that works efficiently. I walk there and within a surprisingly appropriate period of time, i.e not too long but not too short, a coffee of the exact strength and taste that matches my mood will appear. How do they do it. Not only knowing my personal preferences but also matching the strength of the coffee to my wild mood swings.

So I have tried to cut down on the coffee and besides there is a surprising lack of really good coffee pals at the moment. A good coffee pal is hard to come by and needs to be nurtured carefully. They are the one who has the knack of knowing exactly when you need a coffee even though they may be on another continent. Not very practical I agree but still a good test. Fortunately if they are in the same building a good coffee pal will text and say. "at feul. getting you a flat white. crossword really tricky today". and you will meet your coffee pal and 10 minutes later have polished off some seriously tricky word games and be ready for the mind numbing inefficiency of the clinic. After all.... the clinic is only a matter of life and death. it isn't as important as good coffee. And when the going really gets tough and you just don't know what to do next, have a look down the back of the seat. Who knows what yo may find.