In a spin
Lashing with rain all morning. A proper Monday trying to make sense of my filing enough to apply for a different mortgage. Stressed by my dull head, looking for my accounts which have gone west in the move, trying to work out what has been lost irrevocably on my broken hard drive and where the hell are the notes I made not more than two weeks ago?
Luckily after a couple of hours of this kind of thing, I had a visitor. But Cath, feeling miserable having just had to sign on, instantly began crying when I handed her a cup of tea asked her how she was. She sat on the gold sofa and talked for a while and went away a little better I hope.
Was contacted by the agency and had an afternoon's work writing about atrial fibrillation and strokes. This work seeming almost cheery and straightforward compared to all the other stuff going on.
Still feeling run down and very depressed. Enjoyed cooking for Lorraine when she came home, and listening to Alison MacLeod, who I've met a couple of times, talking fluently on the radio about her short story which has been shortlisted for BBC story of the year.
Walked out in the park with Lorraine tonight. Huge harvest moon full over the park, the sky with only a few clouds skidding in the wind. A beautiful sight. The wind in the trees was making me think of Icart Point, and we both wished we were there to see it.
My deaf ear beginning to affect my balance, and when I got to bed, my head was sickeningly spinning like a drunkard's.
Lashing with rain all morning. A proper Monday trying to make sense of my filing enough to apply for a different mortgage. Stressed by my dull head, looking for my accounts which have gone west in the move, trying to work out what has been lost irrevocably on my broken hard drive and where the hell are the notes I made not more than two weeks ago?
Luckily after a couple of hours of this kind of thing, I had a visitor. But Cath, feeling miserable having just had to sign on, instantly began crying when I handed her a cup of tea asked her how she was. She sat on the gold sofa and talked for a while and went away a little better I hope.
Was contacted by the agency and had an afternoon's work writing about atrial fibrillation and strokes. This work seeming almost cheery and straightforward compared to all the other stuff going on.
Still feeling run down and very depressed. Enjoyed cooking for Lorraine when she came home, and listening to Alison MacLeod, who I've met a couple of times, talking fluently on the radio about her short story which has been shortlisted for BBC story of the year.
Walked out in the park with Lorraine tonight. Huge harvest moon full over the park, the sky with only a few clouds skidding in the wind. A beautiful sight. The wind in the trees was making me think of Icart Point, and we both wished we were there to see it.
My deaf ear beginning to affect my balance, and when I got to bed, my head was sickeningly spinning like a drunkard's.
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