To get there, I have to get one train to a station called Sandhills and then one to Bootle. On the way to Sandhills my mind was wandering. I can't even remember what I was thinking about. Then, suddenly, as the doors of the train were closing I realised it was my stop! I couldn't believe how out of it I was that I'd miss my stop. It wasn't such a disaster though, thankfully. I just had to wait 15 minutes at the next station on to get back and then on to Bootle. Managed to get to the place exactly on time.
The receptionist was pretty nice looking.
Only had to wait a few minutes for the doctor to come. He was English too which was good. English doctors are better because they actually understand what you're on about.
I was in there all of 20 minutes. He didn't actually examine me. He just asked me lots of questions about my day to day life as it is now.
"Do you have friends you socialise with?"
"None"
"None?", he says very surprised.
"None".
And basically depressing questions like that. He was a nice doctor though, very friendly. He asked me what I do to have fun and I said not much. I decided to ask him a few questions after that, asking him what he liked to do for fun, if he ever went the cinema, what sports did he like. I think he seemed a bit surprised that I seemed interested. I guess not many people have a conversation with a doctor.
At the end he said I'd hear if I can still claim in about four weeks. I shook his hand and said goodbye and went back the station. I didn't wait long for the train, but I was looking for a train that had Liverpool on the front and Hunts Cross came. I paniced and looked at the map, wondering where Hunts Cross went but by the time I'd found it, the train was going. It was the right one. I waited another 15 minutes for the next one.
I didn't really want to go home. I was out, I wanted to be doing something. I had money, but nothing to buy. I wanted to go to town for something but I couldn't think what for. In the end, I decided I'd go for ink. It's right outside the station.
Ink costs so much. �16 for a colour and �19 for a black. It's stupid. I picked up the card for them both (the actual inks are stored under the counter) and the girl gave me both of them but the colour one didn't look right. I chose another one over the one that I'd chosen at first. �45 it came to. FOURTY FIVE POUNDS FOR INK. Jesus. I reluctantly paid.
Then, for the real reason I went to town. I'd thought of it on the train coming home from Bootle. I left the Stationary Box and walked a little, finding the nearest Big Issue seller (For non-UK people - The Big Issue is a magazine sold by the homeless for �1. They keep around 60p of the profit). I walked up to him and said "Hiya, i'm feeling generous", and held out a five pound note to him with a smile. He gasped in absolute shock and happiness before thanking me a few times and saying 'God bless you' three times. I walked away smiling, turning once to smile at him. It's an amazing feeling making someones day like that. Absolutely brilliant.
Went back in the station and waited for my train, while I opened the inks up and it seems as though the colour one wasn't the right one afterall and I'd just wasted �20 on something I can't use. I can't take it back either. It's only money though. It's only money.
I told my mum and Laura about my little deed and they were both shocked. It was fun seeing the amazement on their faces.
I hope that that Big Issue seller has a nice night tonight.
8:22pm
