I should get out Tim’s laptop. Typing would be easier than on my phone. I can’t quite be bothered, though.
I’m back in Reading, getting ready for Tim’s funeral on Monday. I know it’s true but I don’t believe it. Alone here in his house, I still haven’t accepted it. I’ve seen him, I have said goodbye, i understand but I still don’t believe it. It will be all the harder when it dawns on me that it’s all true, forever. I miss him too much already.
I had a long chat with a friend tonight and I’ve invited him and his wife for dinner tomorrow. There will be 8 of us on Sunday evening as well. Cooking will help to ground me, whatever that means. I’ve bought huge quantities of food for the buffet lunch on Monday. Knowing that people will have come a long way and will be hungry by 2 o’clock has encouraged my natural inclination to over-cater. This is not a bad thing, it helps me. I heated a takeaway fish curry in the microwave for myself tonight, which makes it clear that, at present, it’s good for me to cook for there because I can’t bother much for myself.