Who would have known that on going to bed last night my planned lie in would have been interrupted by the police battering down the door of a flat downstairs? No idea what is going on but that flat seems cursed. In the time I have been here three times it has been occupied and many more than three times it has attracted the attention of the police. I do not know the people who moved in recently but I certainly wish I wasn't disturbed in my precious sleep.
That has led to rather grouchy outlook today. Tiredness is always a downfall for me. I'm not certain what to do with myself. I have listened to Handel and am now whiling away the hours with Classic FM. But I feel uneasy.
Outside there is a cold biting wind so that doesn't seem very attractive. Perhaps I should go out for a pint. Need to get the lamb in to slow roast first. If I remember I will make my own mint sauce.
The flat is gradually warming up although I have sense of doom over the boiler. A friend took a look yesterday and thinks it is the thermostat but also pump sounding dicey. Not what I need with winter beckoning.
But I cannot be too downhearted. There are many good things in my life. My wonderful and varied friends. My music and my books. The priceless gift of cooking well. And dad and Miriam. We will be reunited at Christmas. Not that far off now I suppose. Time goes so quickly.
Let us hope that my mood stays stable in the long upcoming week. Some days I'm so anxious it is a hard to get out of bed. Today has just been a different fear. Yet fear lurks and links so precariously to my mood. The long haul of this week will be the acid test.
I Heard a Voice.
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