Missing Leeds Writers, again

I had lots of annoying fiddly things to do to day, like sending out stories to markets to keep the numbers up, go to B and Q to get some trim for my sliding wardrobe, and move the paperwork and shelves to make room for the wardrobe/cupboard that’s due tomorrow. I can’t wait to be able to hide all my paperwork and files out of sight. My office is, frankly, a mess at the moment and there are times when that gets me down, hence the new cupboard.
Tomorrow, first thing, I have an appointment (at last) to see a counsellor. What they’re offering me is CBT (Cognitive Behaviour Therapy) but I’m not sure that’s what I want right now. I know I need somebody I can talk to abut Mum, but I also need to find a way to feel better about myself so that I have a chance of making some friends. Since all the problems blew up, and I effectively lost my mother, I’ve felt more alone than I have ever done.
I wish the weather would make up its mind. All these sudden heatwaves are hard to cope with, then the moment I get used to the heat, the temperature plummets. No wonder the English talk about the weather so much.
I was meant to be going to the Writers Circle tonight, but it’s hot and muggy and manuscript evenings don't really interest me, I don't read my stories, and I don't comment on other people's poems so I’m not going to bother. Again. I haven't been to an evening meeting at all this year! Being depressed doesn't help. It's like all my energy has to go into doing what I have to do. There's nothing left over.