I didn't sleep well. I woke up at ten past one, thinking about the idiot at the historic building. He was left in charge, and decided to refuse admission to people half an hour before we close. I'm livid about it, and will tell the man in charge when I see him tomorrow. I also thought about my toaster, which exploded on Saturday morning at the grand old age of fifteen. I also thought about the conversation I'd had earlier in the evening. So I got up for a fag by the balcony, then went back to bed, and picked through a dictionary of languages until nearly four.
Up at seven this morning, feeling very tired indeed. I got to the library as usual, having forgotten that the computers would be out of action for cleaning. I didn't want to go home, so I waited for them to come on. I'm going home very shortly to lie down. If I feel up to it, I may treat myself to a cup of Darjeeling and a nice lemon curd tart this afternoon.
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