Monday, May 31, 1982
Life and death
Yet another day to add to my immense ‘I did nothing’ list. I am so so weak-willed, lethargic and lazy. Do I want to pass these exams or not? I don't deserve anything for my piteous, sloth-like stagnant ways.
Lee called round at one hinting that he needed help in retrieving a vital Geography file locked up at school: he’d tried ringing the caretaker but he was out, so he clambered up onto the school roof with a screwdriver while I lounged on the grass “keeping watch.” It was sultry, overcast and hot. We were both amazed at how easy it was for him to gain entry, drop in and climb out again. School almost deserves a burglary.
In the South Atlantic, 16 marines are dead in an attack on Goose Green and Port Darwin. It’s so unreal. As we live out our undisturbed existences, barely ruffled by death, out there in the Falklands all those men are suddenly dropped into it. Bang! It’s war. The Argentine Air Force are mounting brave but suicidal attacks with a 60% loss rate.
The Pope greeted by joyous scenes in Liverpool, York, and Edinburgh. Who said religion was on the way out?
I haven’t done a stroke of work since Mum and Dad left on Saturday.