Don't Say 'what,' Say 'pardon,'

9p.m. My Flat. Feel Very Strange And Empty. Is All Very Well Thinking Everything Is Going To Be Different When You Come Back But Then It Is All The Same. Suppose I Have To Make It Different. But What Am I Going To Do With My Life? I Know. Will Eat Some Cheese.

Singletons Should Not Have To Explain Themselves All The Time But Should Have An Accepted Status — Like Geisha Girls Do

Reminded Of Favorite Poem By Wendy Cope Which Goes: At Christmas Little Children Sing And Merry Bells Jingle. The Cold Winter Air Makes Our Hands And Faces Tingle. And Happy Families Go To Church And Cheerily They Mingle, And The Whole Business Is Unbelievably Dreadful If You're Single.

Comedy Tends To Come Out Of Things Which Are Quite Painful And Serious.

In Terms Of Myself, My Next Big Plan Is To Loose 7llb (as I've Been Planning To Do Since I Was Seventeen) Also To Go To The Gym Three Times A Week, Not Merely To Buy A Sandwich. And Also De-clutter The Garage.