Again...

I went and got some shopping before moving the keyboard. No sooner had I got home that I realized I'd forgotten to go to the post office. The letter is important and has to be posted today. My heart sank as I sorted out the food I'd bought, and sank even further when there were some almighty bangs on my ceiling. So much for having a rest! I was straight out again into the very windy, damp and dark evening, and up to the post office. I feel better now that's out of the way. I would have spent all night worrying about it otherwise. I thought I'd give upstairs a chance to quieten down so I came back to the library. Upstairs have been exceptionally quiet all weekend. I do hope it stays like that.

The rest of today

I'm reaching the point where my headache is becoming unbearable, so I'd better go and get my keyboard sorted out and then lie down. I don't know if I'll do anything else. I can't think.

Now

I'm finding it all very trying. It's all loud voices. Nomadic in the computer suite and English outside. Perhaps I am being old-fashioned in believing that libraries should be quiet places. But then that's only a belief, therefore probably doesn't stand up to scrutiny. I'm getting quite a headache.

This afternoon

I'm not doing very well with the noise today, Everything seems even louder than usual, and is quite deafening at times, even with the earplugs in.
I've only got two ordeals this afternoon. First I have to go to the post office for a stamp. It's not my favourite place I can tell you. After that there will be two trips to the pub to take my keyboard and stand home. I'll feel better once it's done.

Just now

I've just been on a wild goose chase. The bus ride up to the supermarket was noisy, and the journey was of epic proportions. Apart from a bit of traffic along the way, I can't understand why it took so long. I am grateful for my bus pass though. After all it wasn't long ago that I would have had to walk there. I didn't find what I wanted at the supermarket so I bought some spuds instead, so that the journey wouldn't have been a complete waste of time. I then took the bus back and went on to the Asian supermarket. I got what I wanted there, but at double the price I would have paid in London. No matter. At least I got what I need.
It was very wet outside and the wind has picked up too. I looked at the sea from the library window, and saw how rough it was cutting up.

Shortly

I've just noticed that the 'hits' on my blog have just exceeded 40,000. Wow, that's quite a lot in just under two years.
And now to minor matters. I've finally bucked my ideas up, and am just about to set off for the shopping precinct. At least it'll soon be over and done with, and I'll have the wherewithals to make a decent meal.

Pearls of wisdom

Yes. This is how they did it in the Bronze Age.

This morning

The weather has been quite nasty since Saturday afternoon, very overcast with episodes of rain and gusty winds. The quality of daylight is atrocious this morning, and there has been intermittent rain.
After the fags and coffee I went to another 'initial' assessment for more counselling. My mood has deteriorated since the last sessions finished, and they will try and sort me out quickly. Later on I'm determined to go to the big supermarket in the shopping precinct. I have run out of some Indian stuff, and it's stupidly dear in the place round the corner. In the meanwhile here I am at the library as usual.

Sleep

I forgot to mention that my nephew called me while I was getting ready for the pub. I had a lovely natter with both him and his girlfriend. It always makes me feel nice when we speak.
I turned in to some symphonies by Boccherini. Lovely. I am always impressed by his use of texture and motif rather than melody. I was asleep in a very short time. I don't remember waking up during the night but my bed was in quite a state when I came round at six. I'm still feeling very tired.

Yesterday

I didn't enjoy yesterday. Having woken up at 4am, having fags and coffee and then trying to sleep again, I was worn out by the time I went to the historic building. That was quite soul-destroying in terms of the visitors who came in. Afterwards I went back to bed and still didn't manage to sleep, so I was just as tired when I went to the pub. There were different staff on duty and all the people were unknown to me. They asked me to play classical, so it was mostly Mozart and a bit of Beethoven. That went down quite well. I nattered very briefly with a couple and was back home by ten. When I got in I had a bit of supper and watched some Laurel and Hardy films.

The rest of today

I had originally planned to go to the big supermarket in the shopping precinct, but the weather has made me change my mind. Instead I'll get a couple of bits from the local supermarket and then take myself straight home. I'm going to make another one of my nice curries, and settle down to some dvds afterwards. Ain't I exciting!

The weather

The beautiful weather we had this morning was not to last. It has got colder and colder and darker and darker all afternoon. Some evil weather is apparently due to reach us very shortly, which is expected to be with us all day tomorrow. Moving my keyboard from place to place isn't going to be a bed of roses.

In the meanwhile

The first day of our Christmas event went very well indeed. The other staff wore period costume. I didn't, because I'd look ridiculous playing an electronic keyboard. We had lots of visitors and I had some good cd sales. If the rest of the event goes this well I shall be very pleased.

Shortly

Here I am feeling very tired, and needing to take myself to the historic building to run through my stuff before we open. I know I'll be ok. I always am. I've got time for a couple of fags on the way, and to get a snack from the supermarket. Oh the joys of being a roving mummer!

First thing

I woke up to a beautifully bright and sunny, but freezing cold morning. The weather continues the same. I had the fags and coffee deep in thought, going over and over things that are on my mind. Today's attire is 'smart casual', as today is the first day of my December schedule at the historic building. I hope we get plenty of my sort of visitors today.

Sleep

I turned in to some viola da gamba pieces by Marais. It took me a while to settle down, and I enjoyed listening to the pieces. Later on I could hear various high-spirited people going home after what was presumably a good night out, but that didn't bother me at all. The next thing I remember is being woken up by a woman talking very loudly for ages on her mobile phone. I looked out of the window and saw that she was stood against the wall directly opposite my window, and was obviously very agitated. When I checked the time, I saw that it was twenty past two. That was that. I was awake for a very long time, feeling restless, prickly and bombarded with one thought after another. I fell out of bed at about half past seven feeling very tired.

Yesterday evening

After a good dinner I spent the rest of the evening watching more of the Sherlock Holmes stuff. It was nice and quiet again. The people upstairs got in at about twenty past eight. Once or twice I thought it was all going to start up, but it never came to anything. We had a lot of rain, and that continued through the night. For a minute or two it turned ferociously windy too. Bed at a quarter past ten.

The rest of today

I've got a rare and unusual treat in store, in the form of a visit to the post office. After that it'll be a quick visit to the foreign supermarket, and then home for the duration. I hope it'll be another quiet evening, just like it was yesterday. I fancy watching some more of the Sherlock Holmes things later.

The news

I've just read the worrying 'leak' that a middle eastern country is about to carry out a mass execution of 'terrorists'. That's crap. Some of the people on death row had already attracted international condemnation of that country's shocking human rights record. Now it appears that these poor people are going to be killed anyway, under the guise of counter-terrorism. It's bloody religion again, never mind what we are told. That country is after all a theocracy, and the trial was conducted according to religious laws. What a sad world we live in.

Just now

I've finally got round to completing the first draft of my academic cv. I can assure you that was quite an achievement, given all the loud talking and babbling in sundry and miscellaneous languages.
While I think of it I received a letter from my MP yesterday, in which he enclosed a copy of one he'd received from the Health Authority. I read that he'd put in a formal complaint about the length of time I'd had to wait for my diagnosis. That was good of him (although it is his government that have so badly underfunded the service), and the Health Authority will send their response to the complaint by the end of today. I do not like my MPs politics one bit, but it is to his credit that he's a very diligent and effective constituency MP.

A musical interlude

I've got a busy month ahead of me. I'll be harpsichording four days a week instead of three, and I'm playing for a Christmas 'do' in just over a week's time. I know I've got to play carols at least twice. Groan. I detest the bloody things. They're all sickly sweet and gruesome, and turn my brain to jelly. I shall play them though 'cos some people like 'em. Besides it is my job. Give 'em what they want.

This morning

It was cold and dark when I got up, and has continued very dull and overcast. I enjoyed the fags but didn't take much notice of the coffee. I sat deep in thought about all the things I'm waiting to hear about and the things I must remember to do. It's difficult to concentrate on planning things when there are so many unknowns. It's all about waiting.

Sleep

I settled down to Vivaldi's Flute Concertos op 10 and really enjoyed them. I don't remember waking up during the night before getting up at ten to seven this morning. My bed wasn't in a mess so I must have slept soundly. I don't feel as tired today as I have been lately.

Yesterday evening

I enjoyed a repeat of the previous day's dinner and then sat down to Carry On Up The Jungle. My nephew used to love this film when he was about eight years old, but then he grew out of it. I could say the same thing about myself. I switched it off after about twenty minutes and spent the rest of the evening watching some of the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes things. Bed at eleven. It was quiet all evening, and that put me off my guard. I settled down eventually though, and relished the peacefulness. Lovely!

The rest of today

The library is full of noisy, badly-behaved nomads, so it's time for me to go home. Dinner will be nice and easy, in fact more of what I had yesterday. I wonder what tonight has in store a propos the neighbours.

In the meanwhile

The lunchtime talking session went really well. I think it was the best conversation we've had to date, and the one where I did hardly any of the talking. Then I got talking to the mother. I got it chapter and verse. What I was told is not what I remember about when the bust-up happened. Never mind, it's all arms-length stuff as far as I'm concerned. She's never done me any harm and she's one of the few people who came to see me where I play, but that's as far as it goes.
Afterwards it was back to the library, where I found an email about the counselling, asking me to report there on Monday morning for another 'initial assessment'. I don't mind. I know it's going to happen now, rather than merely believing that it will. I don't like belief. It doesn't provide any real answers, only imaginary ones.

In general

My life is odd at the moment. Of course I do have some structure and some routines in place, but there is a good deal of unresolved stuff too. For example there's all the waiting to be contacted and for appointments to be set. Then there are the other appointments which come at various dates. Then there are the doctor's appointments. Then there's my every-other-Thursday talking appointment. In between this I have my playing and my writing, which give me some feeling of stability. Autistic people cope very badly with the unknown, with instability and with uncertainty. The irony is that all the things I'm waiting for are in connection with autism support. I know the service providers are rushed off their feet. It's not their fault. The poor sods have always been shockingly underfunded. They are actually coping fantastically well under the circumstances, but the level of service provision is disgracefully wanting. Let's see what happens.

Thoughts

I've just been outside for a fag. It's bright and sunny but bitterly cold. I've got my winter coat on today. The fur-edged hood makes me look like Nanook Of The North, so I am told, but I couldn't care less. It keeps me warm.
I started thinking of the people I am closest to, and of my friends. I am very happy with the people who are currently in my life. They accept me for myself, and not for what they expect me to be. That feeling is mutual, and that's how it should be. I have spent a lot of time evaluating and re-evaluating my life. At last I am thinking about what I want out of life, rather than just putting up with things because I'm so lacking in confidence. This has necessarily meant my getting rid of a lot of dead wood. I don't want people around me who are injurious to my health. And I'm no longer going to put myself in horrible situations just to please others. Those days are gone.

First thing

I took the fags and coffee very slowly. I was very tired and overloaded with thoughts when I got up, and full of anger over my neighbours' behaviour last night. I did try to calm myself down but still feel pretty much the same.

Sleep

I dropped of listening to L'Estro Armonico by Vivaldi. That collection includes the b minor concerto for four violins, that Bach re-worked as his concerto for four harpsichords in a minor. I'd forgotten how good these are. I remember waking up a lot during the night deep in thought, but I can't remember what I was thinking about. I got up just after six, having been awake for a long time.

Last night

I had a good dinner, although the combination was a bit of an experiment. I made a tomato sauce & spaghetti, and had broad beans & chorizo with it. I'm definitely going to make it again. Then I sat down to Train Of Events. It was hopeless trying to watch it so I switched it off. Later on I read some more of the Tim Hitchcock book and turned in at ten.

The rest of today

I'm just about ready to take myself home via the supermarket. Then it'll be dinner and films as usual. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a quiet night, but two of them in a row is probably too much to hope for. It's been cold all day and has been getting progressively colder all afternoon. I wonder if we're in for some snow?

Since this morning

It wasn't the most successful day at the historic building, with a grand total of nil visitors. I used the time to re-learn Marchand's d minor suite. After a lot of practice I can now give a good account of Forqueray's La Morangis Ou La Plissay. The last time I played that was fourteen years ago for my professional recital. I'm going to start including it in my sessions.

Curiouser and curiouser...

African religious fundamentalists keep trying to make contact with me on social media. It does make me laugh, as I'm an out-and-out atheist. I can only assume they want to try and 'convert' me. That terminology always makes me smile. When I was younger the gas men came round to every house in the country to convert it from coal gas to natural gas. I can't be bothered with being trolled. I can't think why these people waste their time reading atheist views anyway. I don't read theirs. I can't be bothered. I've never been good at reading fiction. I've got no retention for it.

This morning

I got up feeling very numb from the atrocious cider I had last night. I only had one mug of coffee with the fags instead of two. I just wanted to get out. It rained a lot yesterday evening and last night, but this morning it's bright, sunny and cold. I'm due to play in about an hour, so I'll need to go home before that to move my keyboard. Let's hope the sunshine will bring us plenty of visitors.

Sleep

I turned in listening to some trio sonatas by CPE Bach. They weren't his best. They sounded more like his father. I woke up at some point dreaming about people I don't want to see, and  fell asleep again. Up at eight, with my bed in a mess.

Last night

I enjoyed my dinner and finished it. Then I sat down to watch the BBC adaptation of The Pickwick Papers starring Nigel Stock. Meanwhile the noise upstairs was getting on my nerves. It was a cast of stop-start-stop-start with the DVD. By a quarter to seven I felt completely exasperated and switched the thing off. Then it was on with my hat and coat and I started walking to the pub. I didn't particularly fancy going there, and on the way I changed my mind. I went to the off-licence and bought a couple of tins of rocket fuel instead. When I got home it was completely quiet. I couldn't face struggling with the film again so I sat in silence. The noise didn't start again so I suppose the people upstairs must have gone out. Eight o'clock came round and it was still quiet so I put the film back on. I watched all twelve episodes and went to bed at about half past midnight.

Later on

It's time I wandered home now. Dinner will be nice and easy. Yesterday's curry was good, and will be even better today. After that who knows? I don't know what sort of evening I'm in for. Could be anything. Cunts.

Thoughts

I've just been outside for another fag and blimey it's getting cold! I don't know why but I got thinking of Christmas. I also started thinking about the homeless woman I came across in the High Street the other day.
We are soon to witness the annual Rounding Up Of The Destitute ritual, where the homeless are kept warm and fed for a couple of days. For me it's quite disgraceful, and nothing more than an opportunity for the better-off classes to make a display of being benevolent towards the less fortunate. It's that time in the year when the comfortably-off can congratulate themselves for being so bountiful, and to ease their consciences by this act of Christian charity.
I find it unbelievably cruel that this is done to some of the most vulnerable people in our society, in the full knowledge that they will be unceremoniously bundled back out onto the streets to fend for themselves a day or two later. Surely what the homeless really need is to be helped back into a decent life off the streets, rather than an annual helping of religious hypocrisy. The benevolent have nothing they should feel smug about.

Today

I've had a much better day at the library. It's been quite busy here, but and noise has been kept to an acceptably polite level. I really appreciate the peace and quiet. I do feel upset that I can't sit in peace at home. I'm tired and really want to go back to bed, but I am wary about it. I know that at some point during the afternoon, the noise and all the aggravation it causes me will rule the roost. To say I'm upset is probably the wrong word. What I should probably say is that I'm starting to feel very angry about it.

Just now

I went outside for a fag and reflected on the weather. It's not bitterly cold as it was yesterday, but it's not at all warm. It rained during the night and was still raining when I got up this morning, but that turned to drizzle. It's still grey and drizzly now.
I'm thinking about my mood too. It ain't brilliant. The tiredness is probably not helping. I don't know what to do about it. I really don't want to move, but I don't know how much longer I can put up with the animals upstairs.

First thing

I don't feel very clever today. Rather worn out in fact. The fags and coffee were something to get over and done with. I cooked a simple breakfast. I didn't really fancy it, but thought I should have it. Then I was off to the library.

Sleep

I went to bed feeling miserable and stressed. I nodded off to some Russian harpsichord music. It's a lovely recording, and the pieces are interesting. Some of it is very old-fashioned for the time it was composed.
I had a strange night, and remember turning round quite a few times. I remember three bits of dream, but don't know if they belonged to the same dream or to different ones. There was the recurring one about teeth. This time I was holding all the teeth from the right side of my face in my left hand, and remember picking through them with my right hand.
I remember visiting some people I know socially, and that's something I will probably never do in real life. They are very well-to-do, yet in my dream they lived at the top of a hideous tower block in the town. I walked with them up endless flights of stairs as the building started shaking when a gale started blowing. I got frightened and walked back downstairs on my own.
The last bit I remember is that I was occupying the ground floor and basement of a large Victorian terraced house. I was told that I had to leave at short notice, as the lady who owned the place was about to move out. I couldn't manage to get anything packed, and was worried about how I was going to move my things. Some people I knew in my dream had come to help me, but I was unable to tell them how to help me. I kept thinking, too, about all the plants I'd planted in the garden, and was sad that I wouldn't be able to take them with me.
I woke up at around six o'clock with the horrors.

Last night

I got home around four o'clock and cooked dinner. It was noisy when I got back and stayed noisy on and off until a quarter to nine. That bloody kid ought to be in bed much earlier than nine or ten. After nine o'clock it was mother's turn, stomping and bashing around. I watched Nell Gwynn and The Smallest Show On Earth. I had to keep stopping the films until the noise died down. Two-and-three-quarters of an hour's worth of viewing took me from half past five until just after ten o'clock to complete. Very un-enjoyable indeed. Afterwards I read another chapter of the Tim Hitchcock book before turning in at around eleven.

The news etc.

I went to the shops to get a couple of things I need for dinner, and then went on to get the keyboard moved. I had wanted to start cooking when I got home but the meat wasn't quite defrosted. I didn't fancy sitting around twiddling my thumbs, so I put my arctic winter clothes back on and brought myself back to the library.
Meanwhile I've seen a news report about yet another suspicious package being left in a place that's thronging with people. I don't understand what sort of person would do such a thing. Nor do I understand what pleasure or satisfaction can be gained from doing something like that. I can only assume that the perpetrator gets some sadistic enjoyment out of frightening people.

Now

I'm bored with the computer so I'll have a stroll down the High Street to get something hot from the butchers. I'll probably look in the charity shop while I'm out. After that it'll be getting the keyboard and myself home.

Thoughts

I've just been outside for a fag, and stood shivering in the bright sunshine. My thoughts were flying all over the place. It gets very tiring when you can't stop thinking. There comes a point where nice thoughts become just as painful as the other thought. Nice thoughts too don't go away, but keep going round and round and playing on your mind. I wish I knew how to stop thinking, even if it's just for a minute or two.

Today

I've got a nice easy day. I haven't got anything I need to do, apart from picking up my keyboard this afternoon. I'm planning another curry for dinner, but chicken this time instead of the usual mince.
When I think about it I've got a quiet week too. Apart from my usual playing I have only one appointment on Thursday lunchtime.

First thing

My eyes were burning when I got up and sloped my way towards the kitchen. The fags and coffee were particularly unenjoyable and just a formality. I took the precaution of having some toast to fortify me against the cold weather. Then it was off to the shops to buy a frame for my portrait, and then on to the library.

Sleep

I woke up several times during Saturday night because of dreams, and was consequently quite tired on Sunday morning. Last night I remember waking up twice and staying awake. This time I was being ground down by all the happy thoughts of my session at the pub. I had a strange dream too, and one I seem to remember on other occasions in the past. I dreamed that I was on the run, and taking a train from one country to another. One of the passengers tries to turn me in to the authorities, but I make a bolt for it. I end up in all sorts of strange places on foot, including a ferry terminal and a goods yard. Then in my dream I remember that I've seen all this in a film and know what is going to happen next. Of course in real life such a film is unknown to me. I never know what the nights will have in store for me.

The weather

It's been cold all weekend and has been getting progressively colder throughout. The overcast skies of the weekend have given way to blue skies and sunshine, but it's bitterly cold.
The most ferocious gales started on Saturday afternoon and continued well into the night. I went down to the front and took a video of the sea. The wind was so strong that I had to lean forward to remain upright, and I had great difficulty in keeping the camera still. It was still windy yesterday and there were some very strong gusts, but not nearly so bad as the previous day.

Unexpected news

On the way home from the historic building, I came across one of the wierdos. He's also an inveterate gossip. He told me that someone I know socially had been found drowned in the sea. That came as a bit of a shock. The person was very good-natured and quite harmless, however I used to avoid his company where his conversation was so strange. It was so strange in fact that I couldn't cope with it for very long. I can't go into a state of mourning, but it's sad news indeed.

Sunday

The historic building was dire. We had visitors alright, but they didn't seem particularly interested in anything. Dinner was the regulation frozen hamburgers.
The pub was a great success. A group of local artists who came in the previous Sunday came back, and so did a group of Spanish nurses I talk to. One of the artists produced the portrait of me that he had promised to paint, and it's such a good likeness of me when I'm playing. It looks exactly like what I feel like when I play. A couple of passers-by came in when they heard me playing, and stayed for three hours. I really like that pub because nobody makes me feel uncomfortable. I really enjoyed myself.
When I got home with a stiff drink I had a couple of rolls with Lorne Sausage and watched Belle Of The Nineties. Bed at about half past eleven.

Saturday night

 I had a nice pasta dinner and braced myself for the evening. It turns out my worry was misplaced, as the rumbling and stampeding stopped shortly after six. It was quiet all evening, so quiet in fact that I suppose they must have gone out. I watched Marnie and a documentary about the film Vertigo. I can't remember what time I turned in.

A change of plans

I left the library, fully intending to go straight home. The bitter cold and the sleet changed my mind for me, and I went to the butchers instead. I bought five good-sized pieces of fried chicken for the shockingly cheap sum of £1.30. On the way back down the High Street I noticed a homeless woman sitting in a doorway, so I gave her a piece of the chicken. I don't like to give money to the homeless, because there's always the possibility that it will be spent on drink or drugs instead of on food.
It always saddens me when I see someone with nowhere to live. To me homelessness has nothing to do with laziness. It is not a lifestyle choice. What it says to me is that the person just couldn't manage, and that something went terribly wrong for them. Whether drink or drugs are involved or not is not the real issue. I'm convinced that there must invariably be some sort of mental health issue underlying it, and that is the issue. After all no-one in their right mind would want to be exposed to the elements for twenty-four hours a day, whatever the weather. No-one in their right mind would want to be in a position where they could not look after themselves. And the homeless are vulnerable to abusive behaviour.
I remember a time when I had nowhere to live, through no fault of my own. I am so lucky that I wasn't completely destitute. Daytimes were horrible, but at least I could always find somewhere to flop down for the night. I am very lucky indeed compared to the people who have to sleep rough, as well as live rough. I just wish that people could be just a bit kinder to them, instead of treating them as a nuisance.
And it is also high time that governments gave the same priority to mental health as they do to physical health. We are a rich country (at least on paper). It's time now for those who can most afford to pay (their fair share of) taxes, to be compelled to contribute their fair share. I'm heartily sick of the workhouse culture we have at present.

Now

I'm getting a bit bored at the library. I really missed playing today. I think I'll take myself home, in the hope that my lovely neighbours will be out. I don't really feel like doing much. Anyway I'm tired in the first place.
I can't see me going out again. The weather isn't really conducive to outdoor activities. I'm hoping that the rest of my day will be quite uneventful, particularly with regards to my neighbours. I shan't have to cook. I've got plenty left from yesterday for a meal, and more besides.

Thoughts

I've just been outside for a fag and the weather is turning very nasty indeed. The winds are now gale-force and the sea is rough, with large waves and a huge swell.
I got thinking. I've really got the hump about being let down, but I realize I'm starting to get much better at coping with such things. I felt like exploding when I found out, but I didn't. I was a picture of decorum. I'm not completely eaten up and frantic with it, as I would have been not so very long ago. I don't feel very nice inside, but I am in control. And I expect the feeling to pass in a comparatively short space of time, rather than the weeks or months it would have taken in the past. I hope I'm learning.

Again

I set out for the historical building, togged up to the nines and nearly getting blown over by a strong gust of wind along the way. Guess what? The place isn't opening today. Nobody had bothered to tell me that the private function which was supposed to be taking place this afternoon is now starting at lunchtime.
People really don't understand. I need to know very clearly what I'm doing, and well in advance of having to do it. I plan my life weeks ahead to minimise the possibility of any last-minute surprises. Well I've just had quite a shock. I have already told people that last-minute disruptions really upset me, and that I need to know that when I agree something with someone, they need to either keep to the agreement or let me know in good time if they can't. Why are people so disorganised? It must be that they have someone else to sort things out afterwards for them. If I'd been that disorganised I'd probably have ended up on the street decades ago. It's really upsetting.

First thing

I got up feeling totally drained. The fags and coffee were not in the least bit enjoyable, and I had some cereal afterwards. I kept mulling over the last couple of nights. There was no noise from upstairs, so the bitch and her progeny must have still been asleep. That made me angry, after what I've been going through. It also means they are going to be up late tonight. What a life. I'm currently trying to get my head around playing in an hour or so.
It's freezing cold today and much colder than yesterday. I have read reports that it snowed a bit last night, but there was no evidence of that when I got up. It did snow in France though. What we've had today is a leaden sky, a stiff, cold breeze and rain.

Sleep

I went to bed feeling very edgy, and listened to some music for veena. I must have been awake for at least half an hour, judging by the pieces I remember listening to. I was just nodding off when there was an almighty bang directly overhead. So that was that. It all went quiet but I was wide awake. Shortly afterwards that bloody car started up and left its engine running for a good ten minutes. There's obviously a connection between that bloody car and that bloody man's visits. I got up, had a fag and put on Corelli's Op3, nodding off some time afterwards. My sleep was very interrupted all night, where I was feeling so uncomfortable. Up at seven.

Last night

I got home, did the washing up and made a pasta and meatballs thing. I was waiting for the people upstairs to start and couldn't really settle down to watch anything, so I watched a few documentaries about Hitchcock films. The noise started at just after eight. Raised voices (including that man's) and the kid running round. It didn't go on for long on any occasion but the interruptions were frequent. I stopped the dvds every time it got too much. The kid was still running round at a quarter past ten. The adults were arguing again when I turned in at eleven, feeling edgy.

Outside

I have just been out for a fag, and the weather seems to be getting colder by the minute. Snow is apparently predicted for both England and France at the weekend, so it seems highly likely that either we or they, or both, will get it. The great unwashed that I saw in the High Street at lunchtime are now congregated round the entrance to the library. They look very intimidating. I didn't want to have to listen to that lot when I smoked, so I went round the corner and had my fag.

Shortly ago

I finally remembered to go and buy some electricity. I couldn't have left it any longer, because the power would have run out either overnight or in the morning. The weather is noticeably colder than it was this morning, and the air is starting to feel icy. There was a scruffy assortment of the strangest and most badly-behaved people lurking around the High Street, so I didn't hang around. They gave me the creeps. So here I am again, firmly ensconced in the library.

The news

We live in strange and shocking times. I keep seeing 'takes' on the recent atrocities where the writers look for someone or something to blame. The writers think it's variously misguided fanatics, political systems, individuals, groups, or ourselves.
Everyone seems to have missed the point. It is religion, and religion alone, which is responsible for these terrible acts. The terrorists acted on religious authority, having taken certain passages from their scriptures literally. Even the more 'moderate' expressions of that faith are prejudiced and brutal. The trouble is that it holds all the strings of government in those parts of the world where it prevails. People are indoctrinated from the cradle. Non-believers are killed. It is so firmly entrenched that it is unlikely that it can ever be dislodged. Please, world, please stop making excuses and apologies for this evil creed. In case anyone has forgotten, religion behaved in exactly the same way in our culture too, in the days when it was the government. We are very lucky that we were able to loosen its grip some centuries ago. For that reason alone it is no longer in a position to do the things to people it once felt it had a right to do. The picture above shows heretics being burned in Smithfield, London.

The melodrama

It's a funny time, and a bit of a waiting game. I'm still waiting for the written ASD diagnosis. My doctor needs that so he can refer me to the appropriate services. I'm still waiting to be contacted by the person from social services, who can point me in the right direction for non-medical services. The last two years have been all about waiting. I'll just have to be patient, again.

First thing

I got up craving for cereals and toast, but after the fags and coffee I no longer fancied them. I noticed how the weather had changed. It's getting quite cold and turning wintery now. The air smells of snow. It's been an uneventful morning, apart from all the thinking. I still feel tired out. Here I am at the library, as usual.

Sleep

I felt quite agitated when I went to bed and it took me some time to settle down. I did wake up a few times during the night. One of the times I must have dreamed that it was bright and sunny, but discovered it was pitch black when I looked out of the window. I woke up at twenty to eight and got up five minutes later.
I remember one strange dream. I was going to take a practical exam for which I had already sat the written paper. My mum was going to drive me to the venue in the next town (my mum didn't drive) and my brother was there too. There were all sorts of distractions, diversions and delays as she got herself ready. I worried all the time. I looked at my watch as we started off, and saw that I was already too late for the exam. I remember going along some roads and seeing some fields, all of which seemed familiar from previous dreams. My bed was in a state when I got up.

Last night

I made poriyal with some red cabbage and had it with some of the previous day's curry. Then I sat down to watch Joanie Crawford in Humoresque. It's not her best film but it was something different to watch. Then the noise started, and there was I stopping the film every couple of minutes. That was that. I'd really had enough so I took myself to the pub. There were only two other people in the place when I got there, and that suited me. A little while afterwards a band turned up. Then a singer turned up, who was nothing to do with the band. The landlord had double-booked, and it was very embarrassing to hear the people try to sort it out. I did feel sorry for them. Anyway they did sort it out but it had got on my nerves, so I went home.
It was all quiet when I got back so I watched Judgement At Nuremberg, a Hollywood epic starring all the big guns of the time. Sometimes it tends to be a bit over-the-top, but it's a very well-made film. I always get upset at the bit where a 'backward' man is systematically ridiculed in front of the court.
Then at a quarter to eleven there were a few bangs and stomps and raised voices from upstairs. That terrible man was up there, the one who had been banned from the premises. I just knew the stupid bitch would have him back there at some point. I tried to continue with the film but gave up, and turned in just after eleven.

The rest of today

The cunts who shout in tongues are back, so it's time for me to leave. I'll go to the foreign supermarket on the way home, then it'll be an ordinary, uneventful sort of night.

Thoughts

A few minutes ago I went out into the pouring rain for a fag, and got thinking. We live in very strange times. Take the news for example, which is nothing but misery.
I remembered a heavily-pregnant woman I saw crossing the road this morning with two toddlers in tow. The kids were rushing all over the place and completely ignoring what the woman was telling them to do. Not so very long ago that sort of behavior would not have been tolerated. The fact she's going to have yet another baby, which one suspects she will also be unable to control, is very worrying.
When I came back to the library at lunchtime I was preceded by a gaggle of teenage girls, one of whom had a toddler in a pushchair. The child kept screaming and shouting and losing its temper, and was completely ignored by the girls. I don't know which of the girls was its mother, but whoever she was she didn't seem to know much about toddlers.
Just now the librarian caught some of the regular lowlifes (or is it lowlives?) messing about in the corner of the room with drugs. They asked the culprits to leave, and were greeted with a barrage of abuse and threats.
I know there has been bad behavior in the world since time immemorial. The difference is that nowadays more people seem to accept it as being normal. The World Turned Upside-Down.

A musical interlude

Yesterday I found out I am no longer required to play for the wedding vows thing in the historic building. Apparently the people have booked someone with a guitar. Better to find out late than never I suppose. I'm quite relieved really. Priests bring me out in boils.
This morning I've had another confirmation for the Christmas do I'm playing at next month. The venue has a piano, and it'll be nice to play a real one. It also means I can get the bus there, as I'll have no keyboard to move. That'll be nice and easy.

The news

It's just one horror after another. Death, destruction, injury, bereavement, separation, hate, hysteria. It's a meadiaeval ideology that has twenty-first century technology. When is it all going to stop? Indeed will it ever stop?

Just now

I went to the charity shop and picked up a nice pair of trousers for a quid. Then I went to the hamburger joint, so I'm feeling quite dehydrated and hyperactive now. The weather's horrible; cold, overcast and drizzle, so that put me off going anywhere on the bus.
While I was walking back to the library, I remembered what I'd been thinking about first thing this morning. It was about friends, and my friend in Scotland in particular. The last time we made contact was over a year ago. He'd sent me a text message and I responded by letter. My usual habit is to tell people that everything is great, but on that occasion I told the truth. I said that I was in dire straits and that I was going through a terrible time of it. I never heard back. The disappointing thing is that I'd helped out with the pennies at least a couple of times when things were going badly for him. Of course one doesn't give in order to receive. I gave gladly. But you can't blame me for being disappointed that there wasn't even an offer of help, and not even a single kind gesture. I've given this a great deal of thought, and I'm quite happy to let sleeping dogs lie.
I'd like to think I've learned from my mistakes, but I expect I probably haven't. I can't help being who I am, but I don't want to be mean either. I am open-handed when I'm able to be and will always give of myself, and on account of it I have always attracted people who are delighted to take, when I'm happy to give. I'd like to think it won't happen again, but there probably will be a next time sooner or later.

In a minute

Getting a bitbored at the computer, so I think it's time for a walk or something. First point of call will be the High Street. After that I may well come back to the library, or hop on a bus or something. Can't make my mind up.
Las night I came across a word I hadn't heard for decades, namely supercilious. I've never ever used the word, either in speech or in writing. The word itself is snooty.

Moods

I'm still quite up and down. I've been thinking quite a lot, so I suppose that's only natural. Yesterday I felt a few flashes of hopefulness and positiveness, but I'm quite low today. I don't suppose the horrible tiredness has much to do with it.

First thing today

I got up feeling quite exhausted with a headache and sore eyes. The fags and coffee were just a formality, and not at all enjoyable. I was deep in thought as usual, but don't remember anything about it. I did not enjoy the sound of the kid upstairs running round, screaming and giggling. I've lived in flats before where my neighbours had children, but I've never had to put up with anything like this.

Sleep

I listened to Thyagaraja's Utsava Sampradaya kritis when I turned in. I don't remember waking up during the night before waking up with a start before five o'clock, desperately needing to do the five yard sprint. I was very tired. My bed was in a state so I made it and got back in. Shortly afterwards one of the cars outside my flat started its engine and let it run for nearly ten minutes. It's not a loud engine but the sound is very intrusive and irritating. So that was me wide awake and feeling very angry. Eventually I settled down, and then the same thing happened again, with a different car. So having woken up for a second time and laying awake for a second time, I nodded off at some point and woke up with a start at half past seven.

Last night

I had the curry for dinner and enjoyed it. Afterwards I was in a Joan Crawford mood and watched The Damned Don't Cry and Possessed. They are both very good films, but the first one was completely ruined by the people upstairs. I had to keep stopping the film every couple of minutes until things quietened down. Isn't it dreadful. Bed at about ten.

A change of image

I've just changed my profile picture to a portrait of Voltaire. He is a towering figure of the Enlightenment, who piled into the religious establishment and its superstitious beliefs armed with nothing more than reason. He paved the way for the sciences to flourish unfettered. What a good man.

The rest of today

I feel just a tad bored, so I think I'm about to go home shortly. First of all I'll pop into the foreign supermarket, because I fancy making a curry. Whether or not I will fancy eating it remains to be seen. Afterwards I'll rack my brains for something to watch, but expect I'll end up reading at the same time.

In the meanwhile

The historic building was very disappointing today. We had a group of three visiting us just after opening time, and that was it. I did use the time constructively by practicing some new pieces and revisiting the Forqueray Pieces de Clavecin.
It's still sunny but the wind has picked up and become cold. The Old Town is practically deserted.

Twisted minds

This morning I read about an American pastor who is preaching that homosexuals and atheists should be put to death. I also saw a long list of categories of people who are put to death under Islamic law. Religion makes me sick. Its apologists will claim it is not the teachings that are to blame, but the people. Rubbish. I'm sure these individuals could quote verbatim the specific bits of scripture that advocate such actions. I have heard it said that if one is not to be a hypocrite, then one must accept all the scripture or none of it. One cannot pick and choose. It stands to reason that these particular teachings must be seriously flawed, if they are liable to such 'misinterpretation'. I believe it is probably the case that these particular individuals are doing nothing more than highlight the passages that others would rather overlook.

First thing

I woke up to a lovely day, still feeling very tired. There was a little bit of blue sky, with broken fluffy clouds and some sunshine. It's not very warm though. The fags and coffee were hard work and so was the bath, but I was in and out in five minutes. I really wasn't in the mood for getting wet. Then on to the library. I'll have to go and move the keyboard soon, so I'll be ready to play on time.

Sleep

I listened to the second cd of Handel's Israel In Egypt as I nodded off. I don't know if I woke up during the night, but my bed was completely trashed when I came round at six. I nodded off again and got up at half past seven.

Last night

While I was outside having a fag or two just now, I started mulling over last night. It had been windy all afternoon, and the winds had increased to gales by evening time. I kept my French window open so I could experience what was going on. The lampshades in my living room were blowing all over the place. I enjoyed the sound of the wind. That was soothing, and so much nicer than the stuff I generally have to listen to.
After dinner I put some Hitchcock films on; Murder, The Skin Game and Champagne. I got bored with the first one, so read another chapter of Tim Hitchcock's book. I enjoyed the other two though. Bed at five to eleven.

And finally...

I finally bucked up my ideas and bussed it to the Indian supermarket. I've got a few basics that I'd run out of, plus a tin of that lovely Patra. I was so surprised when I found out that the man sold it. I thought I'd have to go to London to get it.
Meanwhile the weather is cutting up rough with heavy, fast-moving black clouds, rain and increasing winds. The sea was all grey and hazy, and I was disappointed by the size of the waves. It's no surprise when I think about it, because the wind is blowing from inland. Had the wind been blowing across the water, the waves would be much higher. The waves were behaving oddly though. As they rolled in, the wind was bending the tops over and backwards.
I took my bit of shopping home with the intention of stopping in, but I got very bored after one fag. So here I am again in the library. This time I've got a nice quiet seat away from the main suite of computers. The miscellaneous bimbos and what-nots are still there, but I can hardly hear them. Bliss!!!

The rest of today

I'm starting to feel miserable. The English babblers of earlier have been superseded by the babblers in tongues. Loud, hideous, fucking annoying and upsetting. These idiots just don't have a fucking clue how to behave. I can feel myself getting ready to explode so I'd better leave. I can't cope with one group of four in one loud conversation, and two more people in another loud conversation. Ordinary night tonight.

A moment ago

I went outside for a fag, and to check on the weather. The storm we are expecting will be stronger than anything I've seen down here. I can see that the sea has started to get choppy. We're in for some very big waves later. I might even go out and have a look (if I'm brave enough, that is).
I don't know why, but I started to think about the pub where I play. I do know why, come to think of it. I'd remembered that I wanted to go there yesterday, but in the end I stayed at home instead. I used to dread going there to play. I wasn't at all confident. I worried endlessly about the people and whether they really liked what I did, or if they were just being kind. I could do with being looked after a bit better, but on balance I like what I do there. The people are nice; friendly but not in-yer-face. There are people I look forward to seeing. I hardly ever see a cunt there; one or two weirdos now and again, but seldom a cunt. I can be quiet if I want and no-one minds. There is no intrusion. No getting dragged into unwanted conversations. No-one talking for four or five hours without stopping. I don't struggle to cope anymore. In fact I don't have to cope, 'cos I feel generally quite comfortable. I can go out knowing that I won't go home upset afterwards. For most people I'm probably talking about something small that is taken for granted. For me it's such a big deal.

In the meanwhile

I've just eaten at least a year's calories all in one go, and every possible 'e' you can think of. Yes, I had the hamburger. I did enjoy it but it's made my guts creak, and I feel a bit hyperactive. I walked the long way round to the library, to try and give my system a bit of a kick-start. I expect I'll be hungry again in about half an hour.

This week

I'm going to be fairly quiet during the week, as tomorrow's harpsichording session is the only thing I've got booked. The weekend is going to be busy though. I'm playing lunchtime and night on both Saturday and Sunday. I'll need to pace myself, but I know I'm going to be pretty worn out come Monday.

Fine dining

I suddenly feel very hungry, and I suppose that's where I feel so tired. Yesterday I arrived too earliy for my appointment, so whiled away the time with a hamburger over the road. Because of that visit I've got a free hamburger to look forward to, and I'm going to have it for lunch today. I don't often go somewhere to eat, but I'm in the mood for a salt and chemicals fix.

Generally

Last night the people upstairs got home at about 8pm. I know that because I heard them; raised voices, elephants trumpeting, stampeding and infantile tantrums. It wasn't all the time. Every now and then I had to stop reading until the rumbling stopped. The little sod was still running rounbd at ten past ten, by which time there was large vehicle movement in the garage over the road. It was all engines running, clunkings, bashings, and the sound of grating metal. It's very trying.
We're having a talking morning in the library, with the usual screaming kids downstairs. I went outside for a fag, still with the earplugs in, and found the noise of passing traffic almost deafening. My world is a very noisy place indeed. Noise is a cunt.

A new day

I got up at six, and the start of my day was all fags, coffee, thinking, and mental and physical tiredness.
Something in the way I think has been changing since I was diagnosed with ASD. I used to get terribly confused with anger and sadness, as they both felt the same to me. Lately I am starting to recognise anger. I have never been able to express anger, and I suppose that's because I was never really sure what it was. Well from now on, now that I think I know what it is, I'm going to allow myself the luxury of expressing it as and when I see fit. It's all good though. Something I've started to iron out, and something less to be confused about.

Sleep

I listened to some Handel cantatas as I turned in. Lovely. I remember waking up a couple of times during the night, but think I must have slept badly. My bed looked like a shanty town when I woke up. And I still feel shattered.

Last night

I didn't go to the pub after all. I just went home and cooked. After dinner I watched The Horror Of Frankenstein. Horror? My arse! It was just about as terrifying as the soufflé that didn't rise. I lost interest in no time, left it playing, and read another chapter of the Tim Hitchcock book. I finished the night with One Million Years B.C. and had a bloody good laugh. Bed at half past eleven.

Not long ago

I did get round to sorting out the keyboard, so that's out of the way. I shan't have to move it again until Wednesday. Afterwards I went and did a big shop (by my standards) at the foreign supermarket. I got a couple of treats as well as the basics, and was surprised at how cheap it is, compared to the other supermarket.
When I got home I could hear all the tell-tale signs that the people upstairs were in residence; the usual rumblings, raised voices and the noise that sounds like an elephant trumpeting. I really did want to stay at home and cook an early dinner, but here I am at the library again. Sigh.

Now

I'm getting bored with the computer. I'm building myself up to going to the pub for the keyboard. I really don't fancy the idea, but it's something I know I must do. Oh well here goes. Let's get the bugger over and done with.

In the meanwhile

I left the other library well before I needed to. It involved a bus ride, and I needed to make sure I got to my appointment on time. I got there twenty minutes too early, so strolled along the High Street with a fag or two.
The appointment was good, although I'm finding it hard to talk. I'm really very tired and need to be quiet. Besides I've done more talking over the weekend than I've done for a long time. Now back to the library where I live, to do my last catch-up of the day.

Tonight

It's going to be a very ordinary night, and much the same as most other nights. I might go an have a quick half dahn the boozer while me dinner's cooking. I want to do something different, just to break the monotony.

The weather

First thing today it was gloomy, grey, damp, rainy, drizzly and generally horrible. Now it feels much warmer, and the sun has put in an appearance. I need to move now to get to my appointment. About time too. There's a terrible odour of poo here.

Today

I've had a very busy weekend playing; three and a half hours each on Saturday and Sunday lunchtimes, and three hours apiece on Saturday and Sunday nights. I'm very tired today, but feel perfectly entitled to be tired. Apart from a session with the man who is helping me into meaningful work, I'm in for an easy day. I do need to collect my keyboard though, and afterwards I'm going to treat myself to a shopping trip. All in good time though. I can't go any faster.

This morning

I woke up with quite a hangover, but after a sausage roll from the butchers, that has now weakened into a general feeling of fuzziness. I took my time with the fags and coffee, and was deep in cloudy thoughts. I went to the library and had a look at the papers. I'm still reeling with shock over the Paris atrocities. That's what happens when an aggressive and evil ideology believes itself to be good, and inflicts itself on others. The library's computers are being cleaned and are consequently off-line until lunchtime. Not to be daunted I've bussed it to the next town to use theirs.

Last night

I took a pint home with me, and made myself a bacon and black pudding roll when I got home. I started watching Belle Of The Nineties, but the booze had already caught up with me. That was that. Off went the film, the cider went into the fridge and I went to bed.

A social animal?

I enjoyed my time at the boozer last night. I saw the people I always look forward to seeing, and we had some nice natters. My autistic friend was there, so we had the sort of talk we always have. There was one bust-up while I was playing. It was horrible and really frightened me. I didn't know how to react, or whether I should, so I carried on playing.
Some local artists were there and we got talking as if we'd always known each other. One man is a very good painter who does portraits of local characters and 'celebrities'. He took my photo and says he wants to do me! I've never been honoured in that way before! Later on two of my family came in, and that was a lovely surprise. We had a good laugh and a chat. Then the landlord turned up just toward closing time and that was another talk. I've always been very wary of him, but he was very complementary about my playing and said some nice things that customers had told him. He said I was part of the furniture, and that he'd like me to play at his other pub again.
I was disappointed that my favourite barman wasn't there. I found out during the course of the evening that he'd been given the push. What a shame. The new bloke was nice though.

Yesterday

The Saturday night party went very well, and I played for over three hours. I took some wine home with me, fried some chips and sat down to I'm No Angel (again!).
I got up on Sunday suffering the consequences of a drop too much, but that soon wore off. The session at the historic building was soul-destroying. I managed to sleep for an hour after I finished. Then I defrosted a portion of curry for dinner. I had a very successful night at the pub. My regulars were there, and some new people came in when they heard me, and they stayed. Yay!!

Tomorrow

I expect, and almost hope, that I might be feeling a bit fuzzy in the morning. Nonetheless I've got my usual busy Sunday routine, ie harpsichording at lunchtime and pianoing at night. I wonder what I'll be like on Monday morning.

Soon

It's nearly time for me to go home. I'm playing at a party in a couple of hours, so I think I'll tog myself up. need to be there early to move my keyboard to where I want it. I don't expect there to be too many people there. Luckily I'll be in the room next door, which will bake it much more bearable for me. I'm feeling quiet today.
I learn that I'm apparently bigoted for blaming religion for the horrors in Paris. Isn't it funny. I wholeheartedly believe in freedom of worship, but I believe equally strongly that people have the right to criticize those beliefs and to rubbish them as they please. Belief in superstition eh? One might just as well believe in shit. At least shit can prove its existence.

In the meanwhile

We had several visitors to the historic building. Unfortunately they were nearly all from the miseryguts community. One nice couple came in and bought a CD, which is very welcome news. It's very dark and has been pissing down with rain for hours. Oh the joys of an English autumn!

Apologies

I'm sick and tired of people making excuses for religion. The most terrible acts have been committed in the world, and all in the name of religion, yet there are people that insist that it is not religion's fault. Actually it is. Religion is the guilty party. All the people who carried out the atrocities did, was to follow their scripture literally. If religion has evil teachings, it is just not good enough to say religion was not to blame. It is. One hundred percent.

First thing

I was in a grumpy mood and quite tired with the fags and coffee. I got to the library and learned of the terrible atrocities in Paris. I know that area. It's where my music shop is, the one that specializes in early music. I felt like crying. While I was there my best friend contacted me, and we went and had a lovely fried breakfast in a local caff. That helped my mood no end.

Sleep

U had a bad night. It is a strange coincidence that I dreamed about the part of France where my friend lives. I was on foot and walking down country lanes. In the first village we spoke French. In the second village everyone spoke English. I went into the grocers and they had some strange items on sale; a half-made jelly, and a whole pile of loose, home-made cake mix. Along the lane I saw something like the reptile in the Hammer film of the same name, going into a field with someone. That woke me up at twenty past three. I was awake for ours feeling very agitated and quite fed up. I woke up again thinking I'd been looking out of the window and it was broad daylight. Of course it wasn't. Then I fell asleep at some point and woke up with a start at half past seven.

Last night

My culinary experiment was a success. I boiled some chickpeas and stewed them with ham and the remains of my tomato sauce for pasta. Afterwards I watched Shadow Of A Doubt. I soon lost interest so occupied myself with Tim Hitchcock's excellent book Down And Out In Eighteenth-Century London. Bed at a quarter past nine.

The rest of today

Now I know why it turned so windy earlier on. Apparently it was the remains of a hurricane passing by. It's getting dark now so I'll make my way home in a minute. I'm going to cook when I get home. It's going to be  an invention so I don't know how it will turn out. Then it'll be a dvd or two, or none, depending on how I feel. Let's hope it won't be too noisy. I need a rest.

Next month

I'm not doing Christmas ever again. I don't believe in it. It's commercial and phoney. It's just as fake as the reason it is celebrated. It's the celebration of a lie. It's nice for kids of course, to have presents and nice things to look forward to. But people need to grow out of it at some point. It's all very well being nice to people for a couple of days a year, but people have got it the wrong way round. Shouldn't they be treating people nicely all year round? The homeless are rounded up, fed, watered and given shelter for a couple of days, only to be turfed out immediately afterwards. If this isn't immoral, let alone hypocritical, I don't know what is. For me it's not a matter of 'bah humbug'. I don't want to spoil anybody's fun. It's just that I won't buy into it anymore. It's against my conscience.

In the library

It's been a difficult couple of hours, what with all the noise, the loud talking, the babbling, the shouting, the little 'uns screaming. A cacophony  of some English but mostly hideous and unintelligible foreign stuff. Horrendous. My head feels funny, as if I'm recoiling from a blow to the head. The place has cleared out quite a bit now, but of course people must talk. Wish I had a microphone and recorder so you could hear the mouthy bint just a few seats away from me. Never mind the earplugs. I think I'll just have to get my ears filled with concrete. It's horrible.

The news

The important news is that one of the vilest individuals in the Middle East has been killed in an air strike. I really have to wrestle with my conscience here, as I firmly believe that it is wrong to kill another human being. It's a pity they couldn't have taken him alive and put him on trial, but I don't really suppose there was any chance of that. I'm glad he is dead, after the terrible things he did to people. However there are probably many thousands more people who are willing to behave just as brutally, and for the same reasons.
Now to minor matters. It has been reported that a famous actress has apparently stumbled when walking the red carpet. So fucking what? Is this really news? The stupid cow should have been more careful.

In the meanwhile

I took myself home and ended up having toast for lunch. I rapidly got bored so brought myself back to the library. The hideous babblers in tongues are back and they certainly do babble, I can tell you.
The weather has changed again. Now it's much colder and very windy, and the sea has cut up rough.

Now

The library is starting to get a bit feral, so it's time for me to go. I'm getting a bit puckish now, so I'll defrost some stone-age buns for lunch. I don't really want to be at home this afternoon, as I'm going to be there until tomorrow morning anyway, so I suppose I'll end up coming back to the library when the coast is clear.

The weather

It's very mild for November. It was beautifully sunny and a bit cooler when I got up, but that's now turned into gloomy skies and drizzle.
I've heard back from the social services. I'd expected to have to go to their offices about thirty miles away for assessment, but they appear to have assessed me by email. They have referred me to someone who will come and talk to me about services that might be suitable. They have also told me to see my GP and ask him to refer me to the mental health team. My GP has already told me he can't do anything until he gets the written diagnosis for ASD. I've decided what to do. I'll write to him, enclosing the chain of emails between myself and social services.

First thing

I don't feel none too clever today. The fags and coffee were just something to get through. Still deep in thought and vividly remembering past experiences. It's tiring.

Sleep

I had a bad night and spent much of it wide awake. In my dreams I had the most horrific flashbacks to my last job. When I was awake the flashbacks continued. That job was nearly twelve years of concentrated and relentless horror. I must have been very strong to have stuck it out all those years. Up at seven.

Last night

Dinner was nice. Afterwards I watched Rear Window. It had its moments, but I found it far too long. Then I watched The Master Of Bankdam. That was a much better film and had a real story. Bed at eleven.
It was quite noisy again last night, with intermittent rumblings and bangs coming from upstairs, and the same cars pulling up and leaving their engines running. I didn't mind too much during the first film, because I wasn't really taking all that much notice of it. It did bother me a lot later on.

The rest of today

I'm feeling a bit lighter, now that I've got the other schlep out of the way. I really do get myself into a tizz over it. I'm getting bored so it's just about time I went home. I'm going to have another one of those nice steaks from the freezer, which will leave me with one more for another time. Then it'll be the usual couple of cds. I wish this bloody idiot would shut up and let me think. Cunt.

In the library

Plenty of expressions like this. Hideous and inane giggling. I suspect the people may not be well.

Since earlier

The workhouse visit shocked me. The man was nice as pie. It was almost a case of 'all tea and sympathy', only there wasn't any tea, and I don't want no sympathy. My next appointment went well. I really love it when I make people laugh. When they laugh with me, that is, and not at me. Now I'm back at the library and plagued with morons of the most annoying type. They are congregated behind me and talking the most mind-numbing bollocks. They're loud alright, but at least I can't see them.
By the way I've just heard back from the social services people, who were asking for some more information. It looks like I might be getting a mental health worker. That would be brilliant, and would mean I wouldn't have to keep going to the doctor's to ask for help.

Soon

I need an energy fix so I'll take myself home for some coffee and toast. Then the interview. After that I've got my usual Thursday appointment, and then it'll be back to the library for another shot on the computers. What a jolly old soul I am, rather like Old King Cole only not quite so ancient.

Now

Still feeling jittery. Arms and face aching and tingling like mad. Thinking about people, especially those I am close too. And then there are the others, who I remember for different reasons. Thinking about noise. Here it's the whir of the air conditioner, the tapping of computer keyboards, and people talking downstairs. Last night it was the people upstairs, not all the time but intermittently from late afternoon until nearly ten o'clock. And the sound of car engines in the distance. The cars pulling up outside my flat and leaving their engines running while they waited. I'm even beginning to recognise individual cars by the sound they make. One of them pulled up and waited four times last night. Every time it did pull up there was a flurry of activity upstairs. I can't even be bothered to try and work that one out.

Alarming news

I am sickened by something I read this morning. A famous interactive computer game has apparently been developed to recreate stories from the bible. I don't like the game in the first place. All it does is to draw children in and brainwash them. Well I suppose that's what the bible does too, so it's a double-whammy. It really should be against the law to peddle that sort of poisonous shit to children.

This morning

I got up aching, tired and feeling quite drowsy. I was deep in thought with the fags and coffee. I've got my interview at the workhouse today. The man made it quite clear last time that he was put out that I'd asked a mental health professional to help me into work. He also said some things last time that have made me feel uncomfortable ever since. He said that I want diagnosis just to get a label and to get things for free. I can't forget what he said about my good degree: "I have a friend who has a masters but he's an alcoholic. The bit of paper doesn't necessarily say anything". By the way this is the same man who, when I told him I find it difficult working with people, suggested potato packer, warehouse operative and fairground ride operator as suitable occupations.
I'm feeling a bit apprehensive about the forthcoming interview, and a bit browbeaten. Public services could do with being a bit more informed about mental health issues.

Sleep

I went to bed listening to Rameau's Anacréon and Le Berger Fidèle. Lovely! I've always had a particular affinity with Rameau's music.
I had a bumpy night and spent several periods wide awake and deep in thought. I woke up around seven but didn't get up until nearly eight.

Last night

Pasta for dinner, so that was nice and easy. I didn't particularly enjoy it, but ate it anyway. Afterwards I watched The One Million Pound Note starring Gregory Peck, Joyce Grenfell and Wilfred Hyde-White. It's a charming and witty little film. Then I put on Rain starring Joan Crawford. It's a good film but the story got on my nerves. Joan Crawford plays the part of a trollop on some remote Pacific island. Then the missionaries turn up. They're horrible, nosey, sanctimonious, interfering, arrogant, manipulative little shits. What makes me angry is that they are portrayed as the good guys. The film is completely spoiled when Joanie sees the error of her ways and becomes a Christian. I didn't watch the end of the film, for fear of bringing up my dinner. I finished with Spellbound starring Gregory Peck and Ingrid Bergman. Ingrid has the hilarious line (when discussing a patient) 'We'd better put him under drugs for a few days'. I soon lost interest and started reading about the Victorian poor at the same time. Bed at eleven.

Moods

It's still a bit of an 'up and down' time at the moment. Today seems to be more down than up, but I suppose that's because I feel so tired. Added to that there's the disappointment of earlier, combined with all the thinking about my workhouse visit tomorrow. Never mind. I expect I'll snap out of it at some point.

Just now

The historic building was a great disappointment today. We hadn't a single visitor until three people came in towards closing time. I wonder if the person who publicises the place has forgotten to mention that we open on Wednesdays.
We also had the mind-numbing realization that someone has stolen the building's opening sign. The person who took it must be a pathetic little individual.

Remembering again

I went out for a fag, still deep in thought about Armistice Day. I suddenly realised how lucky I am. Lucky that those people I am closest to, and who are younger than me, did not have to go through the terrible ordeal of being called up and sent to war. It's a sobering thought.
 As for myself it wouldn't matter in the least if I were called up. I'm on my own. However I'm so clumsy with things and it takes me a while to get used to new gadgets, apart from which my mind is often elsewhere. I don't think I'd be much use to man or beast. Besides I'm far too old for all that now.

Remembering

I don't go in for national pride and all that sort of stuff. I'm not a bit patriotic. Armistice day is something different though. I think of all the people who have died because of war. There are the servicemen and women who died in battle, and those who died at a later date because of health problems cased by the injuries they had sustained. There are the civilians who got caught up in the fighting. There are the civilians who were considered subhuman and exterminated.
When I think of the First World War, I always think how unnecessary it all was. It was a family feud between the royal families of Europe, and was all because of empire building and territory. A whole generation of young men were called up to serve for God, King and country, and were used as cannon fodder by the aristocracy. It's shameful.

This morning

I have been half-asleep all morning. I was deep in thought as I had the fags and coffee. I can't remember what I thought about. I've been drowning in thoughts since I woke up. I gave myself a push and have dressed smartly, in keeping with Armistice Day. I want to look decent when I play very shortly.

Sleep

I turned in to a selection of concerti grossi by Locatelli. I dreamed a lot last night and turned round a lot, but didn't wake up during the night. Up at half past six.

Last night

I enjoyed some of the previous day's leftovers, and then got out some DVDs. I started with The Strange Love Of Martha Ivers (Barbara Stanwyck, Van Heflin and Kirk Douglas in his first film). Afterwards I watched Bigamist (Joan Fontaine). I've had the film for yonks but never watched it before. It was really good. Bed at twenty past ten.

Incomprehensible

I have just read the sad story of two parents who have been convicted of the manslaughter of their child. They apparently denied the child urgent medical treatment on the grounds of their own religious beliefs. That poor child.
Should people who hold such beliefs actually be allowed to have children? Their beliefs are nothing more than superstitious mumbo-jumbo. It's the same mentality as consulting a witch-doctor to cure illness. For crying out loud this is the 21st Century, not the stone age. What do these people think they are doing? It's staggering that people who live in a developed country in this day and age can be so primitive. It completely defies all understanding.

The rest of today

It's drizzling and getting quite dark now, so I don't suppose I'll be at the library for much longer. After a bit of yesterday's curry I'll watch a couple of films. I don't know what though, 'cos I know them all by heart.

Underwhelmed

I've just got back from the meeting, and it was one of the most tedious experiences I can remember. There were people there who I'd never seen before, all full of the old cackle, and stacked high with hopes and plans. I suppose that's the last we'll see of them until the Christmas dinner. I was very well behaved. I was very polite when I gave my views on the Halloween event. I showed considerable restraint and struggled to resist the urge to tell one or two of the people I thought they were cunts. Thought? No. They were cunts.

The weather

I've just been out for a fag, and noticed how the weather has changed. It's got very mild. The very strong winds we had last night have completely disappeared.
A car had stopped outside the library, and was pinned in by two police cars. The police were talking to the driver and searching his car. I've got the earplugs in, so I couldn't hear what was being said. What I did hear, though, was the driver giving a bravura demonstration of some of the choicest words in the English language. I don't think that helped his case one bit, as the policemen promptly handcuffed him and bundled him into one of the police cars, before driving the car away. I do find scenes like that very upsetting.
Then back in the library it's all babbling, and the usual screaming toddlers. When I was young, that sort of screaming stuff just wasn't allowed. Why do people allow it now?

Now

I'm thinking back to this morning. I was very slow and thoughtful with the fags and coffee. I went over and over what I wanted to tell the doctor, because I needed to make sure I didn't forget anything. I also went over and over what I want to say at the volunteers' (at the historic building) meeting this afternoon. I am not at all happy about the way we were treated the other weekend. Grrrrrrrrrr. I want to remain calm, so I can verbally rip peoples' ears off nice and politely.
Now it's very distracting. A group of people are sat together and all shouting at each other in Polish. The earplugs don't offer much defense against that onslaught. They're noisy cunts.

Sleep

When I turned in, I put on the second CD of Semele again. Lovely. Then it was orf to a most peculiar night's sleep. I woke up frequently on the tail end of unpleasant dreams. The ones I remember all involved people I know, but the situations were strange and menacing. I eventually woke up in time to watch it getting light, and I fell out of bed some time after seven.

Home viewing

I found it very hard to even acknowledge that the Hammer films were on. I was trying very hard to ignore them, but could feel my mood becoming blacker and blacker.
I started wondering to myself what might be on the telly. My immediate response to myself was that I hate the telly. I've always hated the uninspiring load of shite that makes up most of what is broadcast. Sports (a load of idiots running up and down or round in circles), Cookery (some male or female tart fucking around with food), Gardening (half a dozen luvvies who consider themselves the trendiest thing in flowers), House Makeovers (a few jumped-up painters and decorators, otherwise similar to the gardeners) and Game Shows (designed to cause catalepsy in morons). Game shows. How I loathe them. I remembered some really awful ones from over the years. And they generally feature people who were never really good at anything but are famous for that, and who are down on their luck. The latter are generally called Personalities. That's quite a misnomer.

Looking better

I've just come back from the doctors. I told him about my diagnosis. but of course he hasn't been notified yet. Once he gets the diagnosis report my life will be a whole load less complicated. He will refer me for another course of counseling, and has recorded my concerns about the sort of jobs the workhouse want to put me into. All I need in the end is a bit of peace so that I can try and make something of myself.

Last night

When I got in I cobbled together one of my curries, and it was a good 'un. I'll have it again tonight and freeze the rest. Afterwards I started watching Christopher Lee in Rasputin the Mad Monk, but rapidly got very annoyed with it. Then I started watching him in Scars of Dracula and that started to do my head in. (Poor, persecuted Dracula. Nowadays a few visits to the dentist, a course of psychotherapy and free black pudding would sort him out). I finished with Lana Turner and John Garfield in The Postman Always Rings Twice. I'd forgotten what a good film it is. Bed at half past ten.

Good and evil

So now we know.

Just now

Had the last counseling session, and the lady has told me some things I need to do. I shall follow her advice tomorrow morning. I told the lady about last week's low moods, and then went into 'Grumpy Old Git' mode. Never mind. We had a bit of a larf.
So shortly it'll be supermarket fore the grub, pub for the stand, then home for the duration. It's very dark now.

The rest of today

I've already been to one supermarket and got the things I buy there. After the counseling I shall go to the other supermarket for the bits I buy there. Afterwards I'll go and get my keyboard stand. When I get home it'll be dinner, and then some more of those tacky Hammer horror films.

A musical interlude

I take a scholarly approach to playing. Anything I play is informed by extensive study of the performance practice of the period when the piece was composed . On a good day I can play surprisingly well, although not so well as I used to. Yesterday I gave a very good account of movements from Mozart's K332 and K333. There is no emotional attachment with the music. The music was not intended to be an emotional experience. It's a product of the enlightenment, so it is rational, formal and with clear rules, conventions, structure, architecture. I approach Mozart from that standpoint, and play him with the wisdom of CPE Bach's Versuch (uber die wahre Art das Klavier zu spielen), written in 1753, and first-hand accounts of how Mozart himself played his music. Far from the lavish, sentimental phrasing of the 19th Century, I adopt the comparatively 'choppy' 18th-Century style. Each phrase is presented in turn, and ornamentation is used for expressive effect. Mozart a la Rubinstein just won't do. Well it won't do for me.

Home Entertainment

I had a bit of a laugh watching Hammer horror films on Saturday night, preceded by an interview with Christopher Lee. Dracula, Prince of Darkness was hilarious. I can't believe how plastic fangs used to terrify me when I was younger. Christopher Lee was such a lovely-looking bloke. If I'm honest that's why I used to watch his films.
Afterwards I watched The Plague Of The Zombies. It had its moments, but overall it got on my nerves. Hammer were never much cop when it came to the costume department. The supposedly Victorian women had appalling sixties hairdos and makeup, and looked like they were wearing bri-nylon maxi skirts. I went to bed with the hump and listened to the firs disk of Handel's Semele again.

Now

Despite the earplugs the library has become very unpleasant for me, on account of the other people using the library. So I'll be off to the High Street in a minute to have a look in the charity shop. Then it'll be time for me to go and collect my keyboard from the pub. Then I suppose I'll come back to the library, and with a bit of luck the people currently here will have left by then.

In the library

It's a gathering of the clans for all the local lowlife. Appalling. What a complete bunch of wankers.

My week

I've got a busy week ahead of me. I've got to visit the workhouse on Thursday, and I'm not looking forward to that. The system is a cunt, however my recent diagnosis will make it difficult them to push me into anything that could cause my health to deteriorate.
I have my usual playing on Wednesday and at the weekend. I'm also playing pub songs at the historic building on Saturday night. It's one of the volunteers' birthdays, and I have said I would play for his party. It's nice to be asked.
While I think about it I'm playing there for someone's wedding thing later this month, so I must check the date. I'm also playing for a Christmas bash in a nearby town next month. It's nice to feel wanted.

GROAN!!!!!

This made me laugh shortly ago. Puns are usually corny but this one is quite true. Atheism doesn't try to twist people's money out of them. The same cannot be said for churches. However atheism isn't an organization. I suppose they needed to use the word to make the pun work. Love it!

Today

I've got my last session of counseling this afternoon, but I'm going straight round the doctor's in the morning to get myself referred for another lot of sessions. It's been very beneficial to me. I've felt So comfortable talking to the lady that's been seeing me. She believed in me from the start, in a professional way, and believed I was exactly what I thought I was.
Apart from that I need to pay some money in for the rent. A few cd sales at the weekend have left me with something to get some extra shopping, and that's a real bonus.

This morning

I was very groggy with the fags and coffee, and decided that drastic steps needed to be taken. So that was that. I went straight into the kitchen and heated through a tin of beans and sausages, and had them on toast. I found the sausages totally repellant, and they seemed to have the texture of minced slugs or worms. I'm never having them again. I did eat the beans though. Throughout I was thinking and thinking about last night.

A change of mind

The ASD diagnosis has been a life-changing event for me. Last week there were more downs than ups, but that is to be expected. I have had a lot to think about. I now realise that I used to be very hard on myself, and I suppose that is why I have felt depressed for all of my life. In my own mind I was a complete failure and an idiot, for not managing so well in life, and for not making a success of myself. Then, of course, I didn't know I might be autistic until a couple of years ago. Earlier on it was just a case of depression. Depression, in my mind, was the same as failure, weakness and idiocy. When I suspected autism, a new set of worries superceded the old. Was I imagining everything? Was I only trying to find excuses to blame my own inadequacy on? Was I mad? Was I just completely useless?
The diagnosis has helped me to see things I hadn't previously noticed. I now understand that the things that have made my life such a struggle are to do with my neurology, and that I am not making excuses for myself. I now know that I am not a failure. Of course my life is not where I would like it to be, but I must have coped fantastically well to have made it this far. I know too that I am not weak or feeble-minded. I have really had to be very strong to stick it out in the most atrocious jobs, and coping all the time with how I felt. I feel much more comfortable with myself than I ever have done. I am finally meeting myself for the first time. Myself, rather than the self that tried so hard to fit in with what society expected. For the first time in my life I am starting to gain in confidence.

Sleep

I staggered home in an advanced state of inebriation at twenty past midnight. Earlier on I had promised myself a spot of supper and a Laurel & Hardy film when I got home, but it was not to be. It was straight to the loo, straight out of my clothes and straight into bed. I put on the second cd of Handel's Semele, and it's a gorgeous work. The last thing I remember is Anthony Rolfe-Johnson singing Where'er You Walk. I woke up at half past six feeling very sloshed, and eventually crawled out of bed at ten past eight.

The other side of things

I coped very well with the social side of things in the pub.
 The people who came in were nice and relaxed and very friendly. I had a job following what was being said, and people wanted to include me in the conversation. I disappeared outside whenever things started getting too much. It was nice though. There were no aggressive talkers, no-one was 'in your face'. I felt quite comfortable all-in-all. I like it where I play. I drink strong stuff there, and have never ever lost my temper and exploded there. I did explode once too often at the place where I once used to go. Now I realise what it's all about. It's all about the people who are around me. That's all there is to it.

The weekend

Both my Sunday events were a great success. Two of the young 'uns from the historic building came to the pub with their girlfriends, which was nice for me. They said they really enjoyed themselves, and looked as if they had, and told me they want to come back next Sunday.
Later on two separate groups came in, so I started playing again at their request. I finished at about eleven and then stayed on to enjoy a beverage or two.

Now

It's getting quite dark now. This year has really flown round, and it's hard to believe that in about six weeks time it'll be the shortest day of the year. I can see that it has been raining, and it looks like it might rain again any minute.
The library is nice and quiet this afternoon. There are plenty of people in, but they are working away nice and quietly.
Oh well I'm bored of the computer now, and quite tired, so it's setting orf home time for me.

Later on

I'm going to have a nice easy dinner this evening, and then it'll be dvds. I don't really fancy anything in particular, so I'll probably start with Quatermass And The Pit. I'm hoping there won't be too much in the way of noise pollution. Sigh.

A moment ago

I had a fantastic session at the historic building, and managed to flog a couple of cds. What was interesting is that I found out that one of our new volunteers has the same brand of autism as myself. We hit it off straight away and got chatting for ages. Then a I noticed a woman was looking through the cds and she came out with (I don't know why) 'I'm looking for some Mozart for my grandson. He's three years old and autistic and he really loves it'. I replied that there is a whole epidemic of autism round here, and she laughed. In the event I sold her the Bach orchestral suites (having played the Air on the G String & Badinerie on the keyboard), and gave her some of the later Haydn symphonies to go with it. She was one happy bunny.

Social media

Most of the stuff I see on social media is trite. Absolute drivel. I post daft stuff like that too. I like a giggle, but I'm naturally a serious sort of person. Lately I've been using my page to actively promote awareness of mental health issues, and to highlight any shortcomings in the levels of service being provided to users. I wonder how many 'friends' will drop off. What I do know is that any real friends will be just as concerned about these issues as I am.

Shortly

At the moment I'm feeling a bit uncomfortable with that feeling in my arms and face. This time my thighs are tingling as well. Very tired too.  I must get myself together, as I'm playing in about half an hour. Come on old son and buck yer ideas up.

This morning

I went through the fags and coffee in record time. I was bored with them, and wanted to get them over and done with. I was very distracted by something that sounded like a foghorn in the distance, which went on for at least an hour and was still sounding when I left home. There isn't any fog today, so I don't know what it was.
Yesterday a friend returned a book containing some Edith Piaf songs. I am glad to have them back, as I was beginning to wonder whether they had been lost. At the moment I'm trying to memorise a few songs so I can play them; Milord, L'Accordeaniste and La Goualante Du Pauvre Jean. They will be useful for the next time we have any French visitors.

Thinking...

I went outside into the cool, overcast morning and enjoyed a couple of fags. While I was there I got thinking. Earlier on I read something about religion in the Middle East. My thoughts went like this:

Some centuries ago religion was the law in my country. It would not tolerate anyone who did not conform with its requirements, and those who did not conform were treated with the utmost brutality. Religion is currently the law in the Middle East, and those who do not conform are treated with the utmost brutality. My conclusion is that when religion is the law, those who do not conform are treated brutally.
Political systems can behave in the same manner, when the political ideology is elevated to the point where it becomes the state religion. Nazi Germany (Hitler is quoted as saying that there was only one religion in the Nazi state, and that religion was Christianity), and Soviet Russia (which was an atheist system) both had state ideologies. These ideologies had their rituals, monuments and important buildings, and edicts that were to be complied with in the minutest detail. These systems, too, would not tolerate those who would not conform, and also treated dissent with the utmost brutality.
My conclusion overall is that my innate revulsion at religion is based on historical fact. My conclusion that religion, while it says it preaches good, is actually evil. Wherever religion is in control, there is a Dark Age for mankind. I won't put up with any more of the old flannel from religion's apologists.

Sleep

I put on Handel's Semele when I turned in. That was lovely. I particularly like the French Overture. I woke up at around two o'clock, realising that I'd forgotten to take my second tablet for the fits. I felt very cross with myself, and it took me ages to get back to sleep. I got up, tired, just before seven.

Yesterday

I cooked as soon as I got home from the library. Rather than going for one of the posh recipes in a book, I made a very simple curry I'd been shown how to make when I was seventeen. Do you know what? I thoroughly enjoyed it and ate the lot.
Afterwards I had some oat nobblies (don't laugh, that's what they are called) and sat down to the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes dvds again, for a change. I didn't take much notice of them, because I was too busy thinking.
There was a fair bit of noise outside, mainly from cars pulling up outside the flats and leaving their engines running while they waited. There were happier sounds from various drunken revelers milling about. Upstairs was generally quiet apart from the usual stampeding sounds, but they stopped around nine o'clock. About an hour later there were some really strange (probably drink and/or drug-induced) shrieks and laughter coming from one of the flats upstairs. I turned in at ten past ten feeling very shaky.

A glimmer of light

When I went home I treated myself to a cup of the nice Darjeeling tea I'd put aside for a rainy day. I don't like any other sort of tea, but it's such a treat when I have it. I don't remember having any earlier in the year. I also brought my posh, bone china 'William Morris' style teacup out of retirement. Lovely, but the custard doughnut let it down very badly.
I'm planning one of my South Indian-style curries for later. I hope I manage to eat it without losing interest.
I do like good old Fanny, bless er. All snooty and fag ash.

Words of wisdom

I have just read that putting a young child to bed earlier leads to better mental health for the mother. Surely that's just plain common sense, rather than a revelation.
If the woman upstairs were to put her kid to bed at a sensible time, I'm sure that would improve my mental health slightly. If she were to put herself to bed at about the same time, that would be even more beneficial to my sanity. The best solution of all would be for her to go to bed and stay there permanently. Hope springs...

Now

I really can't cope with any more screaming, so I'm going home early via the supermarket. I don't know what I'm having for dinner, and I'll probably try to watch some films. I'm dreading tonight. I'm already on edge, fully expecting that the vile individual upstairs will start at some point. And I know she will start, because that's what she does. It's just a matter of when. What a life.

The weekend

I've got my usual schedule of Saturday and Sunday afternoons at the historic building, and Sunday night at the pub. Lately I'm starting to enjoy the latter even more. I like it. There's no 'in yer face' stuff. It's not boisterous or rowdy. I can be quiet if I want. I don't feel threatened, so I'm not having to watch what I say or do. I can be myself. And most important of all, there's not a cunt to be seen (well usually).

A funny moment

Just now it was time for a fag outside in the chilly, damp and overcast day. I remember standing there thinking, but I've forgotten what I thought about. I'm sure I remembered it when I came back through the door, but a child's incessant shrieking has thrown me completely off track. Why can't the parents leave them indoors when they are so noisy?
Earlier on there was a party of deaf people in the library. While I was writing earlier, it amused me to see hands flying up and down above my screen, as the people were deep in conversation. It was so much nicer than the stuff I generally have to put up with.