(no subject)

I am done with Michael Crichton. I have a stack of notes and they just need a couple of days of thinking before I can write them up. Tomorrow I move onto less parlous lands.

I think the thing that annoyed me most was his lack of consistency. Just in case you need to know.

(no subject)

Responses to pain are curious. When I talk too much, it's very likely I'm hiding (from myself) that pain is gradually creeping up. That's what happened today. Thank goodness for friends, who understand that I talk. Their kindness meant I had a marvellous day, right up to the time when I could no longer deny I hurt.

The next couple of days may not be terribly easy, but the last couple of days have been totally cool. And I shall have Aragorn and Tim Tams and etc as solace. Friends are worth their weight in diamonds.