Maybe Baggy's anxiety is warranted......

Anxiety: the overwhelming, heart-racing, breathless, dizzy feeling that takes over your soul, even when the sun is shining and you're in one of your favourite places with a precious furry companion by your side. Your body is on high alert, preparing itself for full flight. The adrenalin flows, making you feel sick and light-headed, but you have zero idea as to what is making you anxious. It's a terror of some invisible thing that is 'going to happen'; inevitable, unavoidable, disastrous, it's just a question of when it will occur.

See the problem Baggees? It's even more terrifying because there is no foundation to that fear. Or is there? Psychic Ploppo is not so sure that it's irrational. In Baggy's life, the list of things, that can easily be defined as 'terrors', that have affected her suddenly and without warning or logic, is so long, that it seems more than a coincidence to Ploppo. Today Baggy has woken with all of those feelings, and now because Hormonal Hannah is no longer taking HRT, (and despite Clever Bird's previous comment that Hannah was through the menopause - so much optimistic nonsense), the panics are causing her to have dramatic hot flushes to add to the symptoms. As these cause physical pain, as the blood pumps through the damaged muscles in her arms and stomach from her surgeries, it's all a bit much.

Today's anxiety however, is real, and Freda Fretter feels that it's warranted. It's Saturday morning, but once again Baggy is on her own, as number one furry is still at work, and this time it's not from choice.

Clever Bird admires and respects HGV drivers for their skills and the crazy hours that they work doing an indispensable, difficult job. But Furry Mama wishes that Calum had a different occupation. Driving on British roads these days is seriously dangerous sadly; there are so many idiots about who have the patience of a gooseberry and would rather risk their own lives and everyone else's, than wait a moment for a safe space to manoeuvre in. For people with driving jobs, who therefore spend so many hours on the roads, encountering such idiots is a scarily regular occurrence.

Last night, one such total idiot, pulled straight out into the rush hour traffic, causing three cars in front of Calum's 40-tonne lorry to slam their brakes on. Now it's one thing stopping a car dead, from thirty miles an hour, although even that takes 75-feet, or six car lengths - but stopping an HGV, pretty much impossible. Calum managed it. He didn't wipe the car in front of him out in the process, but he did come extremely close to getting seriously injured (or worse). The massive load on his trailer shifted, despite being strapped down to within an inch of its life, and had it not been strapped down properly by Cal, could well have killed him. Cal was left feeling furious and sick, and when he called Baggy to explain, was clearly suffering from shock.

Fortunately the incident occurred opposite a garage and even more fortuitously, a Transport company, people in both of which, witnessed what happened. Furry Mama sent Cal off to the garage to get a hot sweet drink and something to eat, while he waited for help; which the Transport company kindly provided, repositioning the load. A couple of hours sitting in rush-hour traffic, then dodging traffic to re-secure the load and he could finish his journey. So today, he's finishing the job that he should have completed yesterday, while Baggy fights her anxiety, and attempts to convince herself that it is irrational.........


Note to readers (my lovely Baggees): For the avoidance of any doubt - every character in this blog is me!!! No Baggy was harmed in its writing.

Baggy's daily state!
Depression (Black = really bad/Grey = not great/Blue = okay/Yellow = sunny day): Blue.
Anxiety (From 1 = barely any to 10 = gibbering wreck standard): 9. 
Tears: Of course.  
Baggy: 214