I have, I find, reverted to my old self and am unable to phone the friends we want to invite to our party in a fortnight’s time. The Sage is doing it. I’m not, as you may have gathered, feeling very cheerful and I don’t really want to talk to people very much. I’m not great with the phone at the best of times, whereas the Sage loves it, so he doesn’t mind. I will, of course, be fine long before the party time, so I don’t want to cancel it.
This morning, I woke at about 6.15, lay there for a few minutes feeling too hot and decided to get up. Downstairs, I found that it was actually not quite half past five. I’ve got some work to do that I didn’t have time for over the weekend so I should have done that, but in fact I read the Sunday papers instead. The result is that it’s now 9 o’clock and I am not even dressed and haven’t done any work, so early rising has turned out to be counter-productive.
And so now, I’m going to get dressed and then find the right music to put me in a better frame of mind. Two of the letters I have to write are to give people good news, then a formal one confirming it, and then a letter of condolence.
After the things at the school this afternoon, I am going over to see Weeza’s bump, which is being painted. Yes, that’s right.