Into Walker and then I’m sent home for an early bath. Actually this is just a metaphorical bath at first (although I go for a run and a shower later on). First, though, I jaunt up to town and get copies of Heaven and Las Vegas and Victorialand and finish off the Cocteaux compilation.
Then I do other stuff, as well I might.
(I know, I can hear the complaints – “‘Today I did stuff’? call this a diary?” I’m sorry. My vague statements are a true reflection of my vague life.)
As I’m about to go to bed I begin to develop a terrible headache that keeps me awake for a while, which I think is terribly unfair. But then I would.