Wow, what a hot day. With temperatures more akin to Seville than Hatfield we sat in our office this afternoon tired, wilting and struggling to achieve anything much. My huge fan helped but God it was hard work today.
Back at home with all the windows and doors open it is stiflingly humid still. There is a promise of storms later, I think we may be in need of them.
This week has gone on too long already. So quiet apart from visits from perspective students. Have another one coming in tomorrow. Then a meeting on heads up for all the changes that will take place in counselling next year. I've been kept in the dark about that but given the way in which we sometimes clash I have stayed out of things as much as possible.
It's hard to tell where I am mentally. A sort of limbo neither up nor down. I expected trouble today given I had a very difficult night of heat, humidity, noisy bin lorries and open windows and a whole series of incredibly vivid but non threatening dreams.
Dinner was a disaster, far too salty. With very little on to watch I have turned to Mozart's C Minor Mass to get me through the evening. I'm starting on two new books, one about the history of Royal Navy submarines since the war and the other a classic, still undecided on whether to return to Hemingway with A Moveable Feast or delve into the world of D H Lawrence for the first time. Will get back to you on that.
Next time I write it will likely be cooler and more manageable. But for now that is all.
I Heard a Voice.
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