Thursday March 27, 2008
Sometimes I wake raring to go. Sometimes I don’t. Most times it’s something in between.
It ought to be a raring to go day today. I slept well enough and long enough and woke with so little pain it might as well have been no pain at all. I could be all energetic and bouncy, quite easily, but I fear that Graham would take it amiss–he’s not feeling entirely chipper today.
So I shall sit in my kitchen corner with Dolly, we’ll have a nice little bit of breakfast, and then we’ll see what the rest of the day brings.
I’ve been reading through old journals. Really old journals. Ye gods and little fishes but what a whingeing little shit I used to be. Age hasn’t treated me too kindly on the physical side but at least it’s taught me not to whinge, to take what comes, and, when nothing much comes, to wait patiently until it does.
I’m not too convinced about these old journals of mine. Can’t shred ’em, of course, but I think I shall try to remember not to read through them again. I suppose I ought to have gone through them to pull out an extract of interesting bits some years back while I still had the energy and urges for such heavy work. Now, well, I don’t think I shall bother. I’d rather go sit in my kitchen corner. Or in the sun, if it shines.