The coming joys of the festive season have yet to take hold of me and all I think about is June. She's driving me crazy. I think I'll go and see her tomorrow.
Now that Princess Anne is truly established as a married woman I think it indelicate to retain her portrait in a prominent position in my bedroom. I have therefore replaced her by Miss Bottomley. The most angelic portrait I've ever seen.
At 5.0 I decided to ignore the EP editor's party and come straight home. Chris rings at 8.05 and says I can get a lift to Farsley if I'm at the Emmotts by 8.30. This is impossible. Sue and I remain indoors and see Stanley Baxter imitating the Queen's Christmas message - quite authentic.
Tonight was the first Friday since November 2 that I didn't enter a place set aside for the consumption of alcohol. It made a change.
I put up some mistletoe for Mother and sit by the light of the Christmas tree feeling generally sorry for myself.
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Moorhouse Inn I have the most disgusting hangover I have perhaps ever experienced. Ally too lay whimpering beneath the quilt and refused to...
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I have just been summoned to thee bathroom by Susie who is sitting in a hot bath in complete darkness. "Michael, the bulb's just go...
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