Finally it's the end of November.
My brother has arrived for his visit, and we've set off to visit something or other, whatever it is, it's the same old story really.
I'm impatient and impatient to get back to Falkirk where we can sit around and talk and walk up the town to do a bit of shopping or whatever it is that he wants to do.
He won't understand why I'm not interested in the X - Factor, I tell him that if I cared I'd listen to it every week.
I won't tell him that last night I watched only for the novelty value of James Arthur, but I'll tell him that I don't like what it stands for.
I don't want to take the time to work out what it's good for, I just like a bit of light entertainment now and again, it's like a trip to the cinema.
But then of course you can't just show up for a film, and a lot of the "funny" ones I prefer never get a repeat viewing.
Anyway.
We're back and my mother and father have gone to town to walk along the harbour front while my brother and I have gone to a restaurant at a spa resort, a nice little place.
I'm very bored as it's three hours since I've eaten and I'm starting to feel sick.
I eat a few biscuits but my appetite is gone, my dad has told me to be sure to eat and I'm feeling low about it, but all too soon it's time to go.
I leave my brother with his parents in the sitting room and it's then I realise just how tired I am.
I'm not sleepy as such but I'm all heaviness, and I feel as if I'm waking up from some very long nightmare.
We get back to the house and dad is going to the pub, he asks me to phone him if there's any change and I say that there's no way I'm going anywhere, although the only thing on my mind at the moment is to sleep.