The mysterious B
Unable to sleep last night. Eventually got up, and drank some chamomile tea, put an icepack on my back, and started reading In Praise of Folly by Erasmus. Even this didn't do the trick. Consequently a little bleary and unfocused. Working on some first words for Helen's Centaur music, which was quite challenging. I also wrote myself a new list, but it seems more nebulous than last week's one. Bloody cold again, though as yet no snow in Brighton. Went for a walk through the park into town to try to pick up some a packaged from the clowns at Royal Mail. It had already been sent back, thanks to it having been wrongly delivered. Then to the doctor to discuss the constant hobbling. Felt a fraud because I haven't been hobbling at all for a couple of weeks, since I made the appointment. There was a student present in our consultation, which makes me feel like I am playing the Woody Allenish part of a neurotic patient, rather than actually being one. Walked home, cold despi...