'Disco dancing with the rapists'

I worked this weekend. I am a mole for Jo's agency because people in the homes tell me what they think of our agency staff - because I'm white. And because I'm English. This is just....I cannot explain how sick this makes me feel. But I have to shut up and listen to it. I will not tolerate racism but I can shut up and accept most of the other things they say. Not just because I like working there (believe it or not) but because I don't want to fuck up Jo's business for her. It's good that she has feedback about her staff from the nursing homes.

I'll only be there for two months and when I move I'm not doing care work again. I want to start looking after younger people, if anything.

Anyway, I've slept for twelve hours because this weekend exhausted me, and now I'm trying to get my brain on straight! Who am I? Where are we? Huh?

Jo is coming round in a little while which is good. I miss her all the time and she oozes relaxation. Err, perhaps I could have worded that better.

'Sometimes I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear,
and I can't help but ask myself how much I let the fear
take the wheel and steer:
It's driven me before
and it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal -
But lately I'm beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel.

So if I decide to waiver my chance to be one of the hive
will I choose water over wine and hold my own and drive?
It's driven me before
and it seems to be the way that everyone else gets around;
But lately I'm beginning to find that when I drive myself my light is found.'