I made a good dinner but didn't enjoy it. I was too busy thinking and thinking, or ruminating as the psychologist called it. I suppose that gives me something in common with cattle, but not with sheep.
I had Laurel and Hardy films on all evening but didn't really take much notice of them.
I read my diagnosis report over and over again. The day-to-day and biographical things were sometimes not quite right but that is to be expected, given the number of things the psychologist had to note in such a short time. However his observations and conclusions were totally correct, and he has made some very pertinent and helpful recommendations. It was quite a tearful night. Seeing a complete description of my inner world was quite overwhelming. There was a great feeling of relief too that I had finally received the report, and that the man understood me. Bed at a quarter to eleven.
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