It has set in. Is it my work? Or is it the menopause? He describes me as pessimistic. I don’t remember being so when I was young. For then, there was always something, even in the darkest of times, and there have been dark times, there was always something to reach out towards. A glint, of something. Now? I don’t know. I fulfil my tasks, go to my desk every day. But I am empty. That’s all. That’s all there is.
