Sluggish start to the day. Had no energy, and bought a Guardian newspaper and stared at the crossword barely able to solve it. It makes me think of the classic SF book Flowers For Algernon, where a very unintelligent person is somehow made to become extremely intelligent, and then after awhile the effects of his treatment wear off and he becomes horribly aware of the atrophy of his brainpower before descending back into his old life as a labourer.

Work not too bad. Quite busy. Went out at lunch with Trace and drank chamomile teas and talked lots. Returned sharpish for a pitch briefing where I sat next to the MD. As we were talking I took the opportunity to draw a small glum gnome dressed in rugby kit, to represent the defeat of the Welsh team by the English at the weekend, so that only the Gnome who was sitting on my other side could see it. Later I noticed the Gnome covetly sketching a jackboot in an inflammatory reference to the occupation of the Channel Islands in WW2.

And talking of Guernsey Kate phoned me this evening to say that she and The Gavster had really enjoyed Guernsey, particularly the cliffwalks. And they had gone to see La Gran'mère too.

Impromtu night out with Bob. The old chien fou had been in town for a job interview and called me. Brilliant to see him. We played a couple of savage games of pool and then had a beer and then had some tapas, with our conversation being drowned somewhat by a guitarist. Restrained night though, as Monday is the mother of all school nights. Bob in Doggets below.