Sleep, where is thy boon?
Gosh, that was a hard night. Finally fell off at about 1.00 Forgot to buy Sominex.
And up to another grey day. Organising a dinner with 6 people is as difficult as solving global warming. I won't give you a blow-by-blow, but my word, how hard can it be? Finally fixed, I hope. Looks like Great Staughton.
Andrew Marr streaming as I type. Wonder how long before I switch it off and go to Amazon Music. Should get a new photo for Saatchi, but cba. They have started about Trans Rights. Off it goes! neither Chomsky or Wittgenstein seem to have actually dented the impossibility of expressing anything with any degree of accuracy. But that is why I prefer the vsual, with all its dread multivalence. Nowadays, everyone has an opinion and everyone has the right to express their views, however extreme or odd. My friend A thinks that James Blunt is far too depressing; that's why I listen to him so much. Feel that sertraline will be on the cards fairly soon. My mood swings are becoming extreme and odd. I lay awake self-analysing and have teased out several strands, but it is hard to pick the important ones when each stress has the voice and the permission to put itself forward as the force majeure.
There is the failure to sell 'Mount'; teaching; money; legacy; sex; my father; Tg and its failures... the list goes on and on. A tad of retail therapy yesterday and the day before helped, but the shirts are essentially for school and respond to the expanding belly; there are enough books to keep me reading up to the end of the year. At least I managed to get to 4 'legendary levels on Duolingo.'