Wasn't that a Leo Sayer song? Or someone very like him. Merrick has just gone home to meet a friend, and I'm eating Rich Tea biscuits. I feel slightly cheered - contact with someone who understands is quite healthy, I think - no need for The Face to make an appearance. I'm waiting for Tesco's to deliver at 1900 with food and household stuff - and, most importantly, ciggies. Don't really know what I'd do without deliveries - I can't face going out and interacting with strangers, so Tesco's are a godsend.
Now the evening stretches ahead - there's good TV on Dave at 2000, so I shall go to bed and watch Have I Got News For You, which is repeated endlessly, and is about all I can cope with at the moment. I feel curiously detached again - I felt connected when Merrick was here, but now I'm back to the lack of personality. However, the fact that I did feel something may be a good sign. I don't like evenings or mornings - the afternoons seem to be a bit better. The middle of the night is just hellish. (I've just had to retype that - Daisy walked across the keyboard) I ought to be getting supper, but I'll write instead.
People are still wandering about the village - it was the final event of the Fox Festival this afternoon, an oratorio by Nick, who lives opposite me, composed specially for the Festival.
Night is falling again, and my mood along with it - why does it go so quickly? I wasn't bad half an hour ago, but the black dog crawls closer as it gets darker. I think it's because my nights are disturbed and I can't guarantee staying asleep - the dog likes me to be up at odd hours, as he can prey on me. Bastard dog. Someone could see me at 4pm and wonder what all the fuss was about - see me at 8pm or 9am, and it's an entirely different matter. The dog keeps funny hours.
Tomorrow I'm having my toenails painted - Amanda will come to the house to do it for me. I arranged it when I was feeling OK, and now I'm dreading having to use The Face for an hour. I thought I'd do something nice for myself, for a change, so maybe I'll feel better afterwards. We'll see. Then I have my trip to the garage with HT - I'll have to have a shower and get dressed by 2pm. Everyone is so kind and I don't deserve it.
Will the insomniacs join me tonight as I write?
I spent 16 years in the RAF defending the Free World , then got bunged out unceremoniously for being bipolar. I and was subsequently diagnosed with PTSD. Funny old world, isn't it?