In search of a touchstone

Gerald's funeral today. Toby and Mum went to it, and it passed off well apparently. I didn't go to it, but am full of mixed feelings about what was for me a failed relationship, and his death is taking up a lot of mental bandwidth for me.

So off to work. Trying to think about money, but generally sunk in loom at the prospect. The week seems like an incredibly long time. Reading and enjoying my Julian Cope book a great deal fortunately, and it it taking me away back in time, and Cope's transparency and honesty about this car crash time of his life, is refreshing. Feeling really out of sorts at work. The chronic disorganisation of the place is maddening, and the lack of clarity does my head in. Also jobs that I would do in minutes are taking me ages. I'm not thinking clearly, which is a pain in the neck for Keith.

Journey home aided by Cope's recollections of acid-crazed times. Very pleased to be home with Lorraine tonight. Had a chat with Mum and Toby, who told me about the day. Sad that Toby is off tomorrow morning, without me having seen him.

Then very soon after, exhaustedly to bed.

Below I forgot to mention I had a poem in The Frogmore Papers last week. It was tucked in at the back somewhat.