I never liked it. It brought in much-needed money but it was so scrappy. I couldn’t get a hold of it and no real skills were required, except patience, endurance and an unending cheerfulness, none of which I have in abundance. I want it to be concluded, after all I haven’t been up there since the first lockdown. I want out, if only to stop this guilt when someone calls, though it happens very infrequently. Perhaps I should just insist and not hold our for any redundancy, after all they’ve been paying me my retainer ever since. I’m not a greedy person, but if it comes as a gift I’d accept it willingly. Shall I wait? A little longer? Perhaps.
Winter is here, Autumn has gone. Oh, those poor people with no power up in the North. It must feel like no one cares. May they be warm soon. The rain outside made me yearn to stay indoors but out I went first to read the gas meter which has been placed, most inconveniently at the base of our flat which involves walking down into the car park and back into the Quad. I hate doing it. But it must be done, as must the writing of this application form. I was petulant and self-pitying yesterday about it. Just keep your head down, he said, and get it done. Yes. And stop complaining. I am chastened by other’s real tribulations, mine is merely the doing of a tedious thing, there is no physical discomfort or mental anguish. It’s just it takes the heart out of the idea, it strips it bare. So be it. I will revivify it, once this is done. Then it will be just me and my pen and my book.
A man came behind me on the hill just in front of Alexandra Hall. I was wrestling with the heavy umbrella (anti-wind – it isn’t) he bought me, trying to collapse it and he waved his walking stick at me. Was it in greeting or alarm or was it a threat? I had my music on so I couldn’t hear what he said. Oh well. Another time. There was an ambulance parked outside the Hall. The driver, a woman, was smoking a cigarette under the porch. Nothing else seemed to be happening. The sea was churning.
