Wan and baggy eyed this morning. Lorraine gave me a lift to the station again, a life saver, and then another journey (this time with a seat!) and another word with myself. Texts to Anton about a weekend walk, text to Beth telling her how good she was in this wee film about not using mirrors when you go shopping for clothes. It is a silly idea but Beth was splendid in it. (Daily Mail again. Seems we can't keep out of it in this house. And Jane in Guernsey of course). You can tell by how the director cut it that they liked her. But before these a text to Lorraine thanking her for her kindness and organisation in the morning.
Meanwhile in scenes that would be hilarious if it weren’t making the UK a laughing stock, the idiot Boris Johnson who led the leave campaign and was teed up to replace Cameron was stabbed in the back by the odious Michael Gove, who suddenly announced himself as a candidate and said Boris wasn’t up to the job. Et Tu Gove was one headline I saw online. The one moment in Gove’s mimsy, narrow-minded infliction on the British public of a career that I have agreed with him. For Gove I almost have a visceral loathing. The Labour party is tearing itself apart too. The MPs openly calling on Corbyn to resign, but he won’t go being backed by grassroots Labour Party membership. Stalemate while Rome burns. Useless.
So what is to be done. I repeat my mantra copped from the Mahatma, be the change you want to see. Did my best to be positive and spread cheer. However was sorely tested by being moved from desk to desk, not having a functioning computer till noon and so on. Then left in a curious limbo. There is work to be done but nobody seems to want me to do it. I’m only booked till the end of the week. Have a smidge more work teed up for next week, so all’s well.
Home and glory of glories, the train was not delayed, I got home before 8pm, I had no work to do. A sigh of relief. Lorraine already busy preparing couscous and roast veggies. I griddled some chicken and we talked. Then Betty came home and told us about her chaperoning adventures on a blockbuster superhero film, then we hit the sack early. Lorraine off to bed, but I paused briefly to watch the end of the yawn inducing Portugal against Poland game. A penalty shoot out. To bed.