On my new machine, the blood sugar reading this morning was 195, up from 146 the prior day. What on earth had I done wrong? I ate sensibly, I took good exercise and I only had one ouzo. It must have been the ouzo. I cursed myself. I reckon that reading is up in the high ten points old scale. Type 2 diabetes is a real bastard,
After breakfast I took a call which saw me swearing repeatedly for the first time in two weeks. I am set to appear as an Expert Witness at a Tribunal in London in early May. I say tribunal but view it as a kangaroo court. The prosecution is also the judges. First they tried to block me as a witness. That failed and they laid out a schedule of events and when I was set to appear. They know I am in Greece and am flying in for 48 hours just for this.
So having agreed it all they have now announced that the hearing is to be extended and one witness is to have his timings altered. Guess who? This is an explicit attempt to knock me out of the game. Luckily the organisers of this kangaroo court reckoned without my incompetence. I have booked no tickets with Aegean. So I shall wait for the new dates to be confirmed and then book. But this will not be the last dirty trick. Anyhow I found myself swearing repeatedly and getting very angry indeed.
It is this poisonous ,viper infested and institutionally corrupt world that has polluted my mind and my body. Why cannot people act like decent souls and do what they agreed to? I tried to put it aside and forget about it and fell asleep mid morning thinking how, in many ways, the City of London was the sort of place that in the Old Testament, God would have destroyed with fire and brimstone. Come on God, find someone to spare the (few) righteous and then bring it on!
Waking up at one, I felt feint and sure enough my blood sugars were just 135 (low eights old scale).That is too high but such a sharp fall was alarming and thus I headed off to my fave restaurant (Save The Katelanos) for some octopus and black eyed peas & mountain greens. The lady who manages this place and I have talked many times and she greeted me warmly. We talked Greece " i work for Alex Tsipras" she complained. Indeed the middle classes are squeezed to pay the bills of the banksters. To what end?
As i waited for my meal she came over with a large ouzo "on the house". I had to explain why I could not. To think that there has come a day when I have to say no to free ouzo. is there any point in going on?