I went on the computer when I got home yesterday afternoon. Shortly afterwards the ferals upstairs started doing their antisocial stuff, which didn't help my mood. I shut the window and carried on with what I wanted to do, and carried on as best I could against a background of the most atrocious noise. I lost the will to cook, so had the rest of what I'd cooked the previous evening. I didn't really enjoy it.
I didn't really feel like doing anything, but did look at a compilation of Punch articles from the 1840s to the 1860s. They are very well written and so astute. Bed at half past ten.
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