I had a nice day yesterday. Last night we had a quiz night at the pub. My brother was originally in the same team as myself, and his partner was quizmistress. Cunt the First (1st magnitude) turned up and wasn't in anybody's team, so I was asked to swap sides. My brother, the poor bastard, had the cunt's incessant verbal diarrhoea all fucking night. It was atrocious. It was loud, relentless and incessant. It sounded a bit like the ongoing roadworks on the M6. My brother is very good at switching himself off to cunts like that, but he shouldn't have to do that. Anyway after the quiz, my brother, another odd bunch friend and I had a reunion at the friend's house, where the conviviality continued with generous helpings of my favourite cider. We couldn't be bothered to go home so I slept on the floor, and the other two slept on sofas. It was just like my days at uni! Great fun, and all very nice. I didn't wake up until after 11am and have only just got home.
I am finding life very trying at the moment. I get really stuck with all the everyday things, and have always done so. I don't think my life can be any more difficult than anyone else's, so what is my problem? I simply don't know, if I'm honest about it. I do hope that the psychiatrists will hurry up with my referral. I feel that I'm in limbo, neither here nor there.
I am desperately holding on to the feeling of inner warmth that I had yesterday, and do not want to give that up. The great love which is generated by my family surrounds me, and is a great source of strength to me.
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