A return to the snowy and the blowy: sleet and snow most of the morning. It was -28°C last night in Scotland. I slept in, got to school for half-nine, and the day passed in pleasant inactivity, talking with Laura, Claire, Deborah. . . .
Evelyn rang in the evening and told me that plans for tomorrow have changed and that now we are all going to play badminton. When she told me this I refused to believe her, thus humiliating myself even more.
Later I watched the Old Grey Whistle Test's tribute to Jim Morrison. I don’t know, there's something about him. What was it about the ‘60s? So many people burned out. I also started reading Desolation Angels. Seymour Krim's introduction seems fair.