In the meanwhile

I went to the historic building. I tried to practice but my playing was heavy and clumsy, so I gave up after a short time. I'm too busy thinking and couldn't really concentrate on it, and my hands just wouldn't do what my brain was telling them. I didn't fancy leaving just yet, so spent a good hour or so watering the garden. On the way back to the library I bumped into one of my psychiatric people, the one that I've an appointment to see on Thursday. He is really bothered about the disgraceful way that I've been treated by the workhouse. He reckons I should make a formal complaint, but I don't want to. I don't like complaining. I'd just much rather have a meeting with someone higher up, so that I can tell them how their actions have affected me.