_. Ally got up in one of her ratty moods and was gone. She looked exhausted and edgy. She was a bit of a monster. I thought I was going to get not only head bitten off, but a large section of my torso.
President Reagan is reported to be sitting up, taking notice, cracking jokes, but I'm not all that convinced he hasn't been assassinated. Who is to say he won't suffer a relapse in eight weeks? Bullet holes at his time of life cannot be very helpful.
A day of grind at the YP. I am increasingly coming to realise just how pointless it all is. Where can I go? What can I do? Surely there is more to life than cutting up newspapers?
Home at 6. Lamb for dinner. I mowed the lawns afterwards. Their first cut of the year. It might not be summer, but the cut grass made it smell like it.
Papa has discovered a very large varicose vein in his leg. I put it down to too much cycling. I asked to view the invasive, blue monstrosity, but received no showing.
I phoned Ally at 7:15. She's eaten watercress soup, and sounded much better.
Retired to bed at 12:24am.
-=-
No comments:
Post a Comment