Back door buddleia

This buddleia has self-seeded in a tub near the back door. I noticed it when I was coming in from having my breakfast in the back garden.

A long, hot day at work. My colleague works part time, and another is off this week, so I've been alone a lot. Managed to book a client in for Monday p.m. at the other surgery. I need to use that room for one to ones. It may be easier to talk to client face to face than when she's in the supermarket, as she was today when I rang.

I've just remembered something. A couple of weeks ago, I'd referred a person for counselling. He hadn't heard back, so I rang the charity and left a message asking if they'd received a referral for a client I named as JC. They called me back to ask who exactly JC was. 'Sounds like a rapper' I replied, indicating that I'd been trying to be discreet.
'Or', they replied, 'if you're religious....'
I re-referred the client. Let's just say they were neither a rapper, nor Jesus Christ! Every day is different.

Now it's hot at home, and the house smells of cabbage.It can only be CleanSteve's broccoli. I've stopped reading Last Chance Saloon by Marian Keyes, because it seemed to be about young women feeling incredibly over the hill at 31.
Found another Irish writer, Arnold Thomas Fanning, and am reading Mind on Fire, his memoir of madness. Some of the experiences he describes remind me of the things that a former massage client used to say to me when he was describing some episodes of mania.

I think I'll attempt to sleep downstairs tonight. It's too hot in the bedroom.