Friday, September 4, 1981


At school, more of the same, more dislike of people and my circumstances.

I set off for Robert's at six, getting there at eight to find Carol on the settee tearful. George is at the vet’s again and is a “very sick cat.” He's being kept in overnight. Carol burst into tears as she told me this and is still upset. The house is heavy with sadness, and I keep gazing at his basket, his cushion, his little furry ball. . . .

We went out to the pub’ and I had two pints of cider and we all cheered up. Carol seemed better and we really quite enjoyed it.

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