Activity

Another day of muscle pain and distraction, or rather what my doctor, who called in late last night, described as [a word I can’t remember right now, a synonym of ‘splitting’; she used a more technical psychiatric term]. Chl came before that. Her PMT was in overdrive, but she’s always a delight. To…

A whole day spent programming. Uncalled for. Inappropriate. Inadequate. This won’t do.

Today I don’t feel like writing. I’m low on energy and a bit fidgety and uncomfortable, perhaps because for some reason I got up before I’d had eight hours of sleep. I spent a bit of time reading this diary; I’m going slowly, because it’s tiring. I don’t know if it’s tiring because it’s badly writt…

I wondered what pigeons know about death. At one point I had a sense that the widow wasn’t so much mourning as waiting, as if she thought what had happened to the pigeon could be reversed. My suspicions were confirmed, in a way, when the wind started to blow. The widow got excited because it looked…

I turned the computer off some time ago; I don’t know where I found the strength. I wavered for a few minutes before I made up my mind, thinking about all the things I could do on it, such as writing this diary and sending some long-overdue replies to emails; many people will be wondering what’s be…