On this day in history…
I’m in need of something to cheer me up.
I’m not planning to get a new cat until the New Year and I’m not leaving on my Christmas break for another week.
I’m seeing the country turn towards folly and to quote Kipling (as the Prime Minister is wont to do):
…the Dog returns to his Vomit and the Sow returns to her Mire,
And the burnt Fool’s bandaged finger goes wabbling back to the Fire —
How do people cope with this shit?
I’d accept meaningless and frivolous sex but the trend in my life recently has been away from that sort of thing.
The thought of getting drunk just makes my stomach twinge.
Maybe I’ll go for a walk.
Asleep in Room3b 
All will be well. In a weeks time you will be in a better or at least warmer place, and that is not a euphemism.I am ignoring all of it apart from Nicola Sturgeon and the fact that Jess is being touted as the next labour leader in the hope it will go away.
I feel better for walks in the woods, and for forcing myself to smile (or grimace, so not a thing to do in company, but it genuinely improves things even though I know it’s fake).
Perhaps a reread of On the Beach ? It’s always seemed to me that the point of that book is that, once you know you’re going to go, all that’s left is to decide how you go: wailing and weeping and raging at the world, or having what fun is still to be had.