Since last night

I settled down listening to Les Fetes D'Hebe by Rameau. I slept through to about six o'clock this morning, and only remember turning round a few times.

This morning's coffee and fags were dreary. I could hear that it was windy. I went out into a bitterly cold and bright day, with ferocious, icy gusts of wind. First of all I went to the psychology place, as they wanted to book me an appointment for the therapy I need. I'm going in for an assessment tomorrow morning. Afterwards I brought myself to the library.