Black dog

Beset by a persistent depression. Attended joylessly to the things that needed attending to. One of those glooms that dropped out of a clear blue sky. Thank God for the distraction of the World Cup which I watched intermittently, watching the bizarre self-destruction of the French team.

Lorraine returned hot after a round trip to Manchester, and she and I and Beth met up for a quick beer in the Battle of Trafalgar, which was cheery. Then I chatted to Richard and Jane who'd had their day distrupted by a sudden plummet in Rufus health. And so to bed.

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