No of sexy nurses - 5 (and the nightshift haven't even arrived yet!!)
No. of impure thoughts - Dozens (mostly about the aforementioned nurses)
No. of official nervous breakdowns diagnosed - 1
No. of hours of worked - 0
No. of rather nice yellow pills that make me feel very, very nice - 2 every 4 hours
Hello from the Sunshine Towers Resthome. I've been assessed, and they have apparently decided that I'm 'confused and emotional from overwork' rather than barking mad, so it means that I've been assigned to a minimum security room. This is the best thing that's happened to me in months - a nice room, great food, free drugs, no work, and lots of gorgeous nurses. I wonder how long I'll be able to spin this out for? I've even received an official bouquet from BP, with a personalised 'hurry back' message from the boss. (As a sufferer from mental illness, I'll be sure to give him at least double points in his diversity score).
My favourite nurse is definitely the lovely Nurse Caley, a Celtic beauty with a twinkle in her eye and (I've been told) a particular skill in bed baths. Perhaps I could pretend to be bedridden tomorrow?
In fact, the only thing that's spoiling this idyllic situation is that, whenever the yellow pills start to wear off, I find my mind straying back to that awful night at the Oxo Tower. Chelsea, have you really forgotten me????
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