Sunday, August 22, 1982


I didn't feel or think anything notable today. After Claire’s visit, I fell into the expected dull and lonely preoccupations. Sometimes I hate being on my own; everywhere gets messy and I lack the drive to do a thing.

In the afternoon I went over to Grant’s. He’s not really that depressed over his results but is a bit sick at having to stay another year in drudgy Easterby.

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