Contagious hesitancy

Unprecedented scenes this morning, with Lorraine and I watching TV over breakfast: highlights of England's unexpected victory over Mexico at the Azteca Stadium. I felt sorry for the Mexicans, having met many nice ones on a trip to Mexico deep in the last century. A couple of hours editing this morning, almost finished editing the interview now. I notice hesitancy is contagious, and Will and I were setting each other off. No problem, as it all comes out in the edit. I liked him.

At lunch off to Brighton by bus to get a haircut. Stacy in what Innis calls monkey mind mode, asking questions but barely listening to the answers. He never takes a holiday, and looked shattered.

About to board a 12 back to Seaford, when a speedy 12x came on the bus stop board as being just three minutes away. Waited for the 12x which, being a phantom bus, never appeared. A long wait, reminding myself of my lifelong commuting credo: a bus or train that's actually here is better than a possible one.

The gym full of teenagers at that time of the day, so I was unable to get on the lats machine. They are perfectly well behaved, which makes me feel as if I'm just being crabby. Home, eating an emergency banana, and cooked the chicken curry for Lorraine that I had been fancying, and settled down to watch a yawnsome 1-0 win by Spain over Portugal. 

To bed, reading the introduction to new translations of St John of the Cross, by Martha Sprackland before sleep.