The coming storm put paid to my Saturday plans. That the storm has yet to materialise is odd but I have no doubt we will once again be buffeted and soaked. The plan was actually to go to The Stoop to watch Harlequins with Charlie. Shame but there will be other times.
My week was marked mainly by triumph, rather too elevated mood and making it to pay day. My enforced austerity measures worked although it is much harder when I'm on the edge of flying. I haven't taken off yet but am working hard to keep a lid on it. Wonder what my psychiatrist will make of it on Tuesday?
If I'm honest I should have increased my Risperidone but given the intensity of work and that we are down to doing the job of four with just two of us means I can't hit the brakes yet.
Restraining myself mainly held sway again today. True I got a joint of beef far bigger than I needed. I bought a pair of boots but resisted the lure of yet another rugby shirt, a microwave and any number of books. Tedious though it is I must guard my reserves more jealously than is my wont.
As the wind gets up and sky darkens I must content myself to staying indoors, listening to the radio and some reading. I finally finished the Anais Nin. She brought it all together in a most unexpected way. Rather than a collection of brutal, unpleasant and nasty erotica from a feminist perspective the end did tie all the random indulgence together to make the end of an era and the world descending into the chaos of World War Two.
The next literary adventure sees me revisiting an old friend. Graham Greene has for a while been a backdrop to my attempts at enlightening my life culturally so to him I go once again.
Be careful out there when the storm eventually hits. Until next time.
I Heard a Voice.
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