Log jam

Despite going to the gym, I had a very poor day and was unable to focus on anything. A gridlock of obscure anxieties and negative feelings about everything I was working on. Lorraine home and we went for a walk around the park, and after I had talked at her for twenty minutes I felt much better. A passing logjam, and by the time we had cooked together I felt much better.

Call from Anton in a many-houred traffic jam, driving up to his mum's house. Also spoke to Matty today, and will pop into see him at Chiswick next week for a coffee after I see my dentist.

A nice evening in with Lorraine and Betty. We ended up watching the money-tamed spectacle of pop drivel that is the Brit Awards. I never expected to go to bed, however, finding that I felt sorry for Madonna. First she had to endure ageist and sexist remarks, then she fell painfully during her live performance yanked offstage by her cape.