Overslept this morning... Cold when I woke up. Off to work, reading more about Robert Frost. Apparently he came to England to cultivate Edward Thomas before the first world war. Thomas is in my opinion the best minor poet in English in the twentieth century. Frost is very enjoyable however.

Otherwise work inoffensive and me feeling a bit dull. Nothing much on. Went to the pub at lunchtime for an hour with Marilyn, Mike, Debs and Mandy. Lurked in the work bar before slinking off to meet Paul who was haunting Hammersmith with a small aquarium. Then headed homeward and slept happily on the train, arriving in Brighton in good enough time to score myself a nice Chinese meal.

Spoke to Mum and I will slip up to Edgware at the weekend. Chatted to Sophie too.