I have two main problems in my life.
1) working out how to cope with a loving girlfriend when I want to be with Trina. Mel has accepted that I don't feel sexually attracted to her any more, but is gamely going along with it, accepting what she's given. She throws her arms around me on the settee and when we're out. We have good times. We laugh and go out on day trips and we both like food and cooking. We never quarrel.
2) My job. It coats me with gloom. However, there may be progress. I had an online meeting on Thursday with my supervisor and some bloke from HR, about my application to go down to two days a week.
He asked me to set out my case. Well... I'm too old for all this. I'm creaking. I can't stand up for seven hours a day. (I often come home knackered and pissed off, muttering complaints against my employer); my aged mother lives in Middlesbrough and all the work looking after her is falling on my sister's overwrought shoulders; I can't cope with the roster being issued ten days or a fortnight in advance, not being able to plan anything.
I didn't mention wanting to spend more time with Trina, with Kitty and Wendy, and Kirsty and our girls, my ain folk, the Lancaster gang, where I'm from. You should be able to say that you just want to fuck work off and spend time with the people who are part of you.
Me and Mel went for a day out in Gloucester.
In a pub, it was bugging me that the man a few yards away looked familiar. As we were leaving, I went over to him. "Excuse me, I'm sorry to interrupt, but could I just ask -- have you got any connection with Lancashire?" "Yes." "Lancaster?" "Yes." Did you used to go down the John O'Gaunt?" "Yes. Do I owe you any money?"
The cathedral was overrun with children and their reasonable parents, all crayons and the considered argumentation of middle-class parenting. We gave five pounds to get in, but you had to pay another fiver for a guide, so we walked round having a gormlessly impressionistic visit; it was a bit shallow.
The Pelican pub afterwards was the best part of the day. We had to shift up as people snuggled into places near to us. You had to talk, not that I need any encouragement to do that. They had Dunkerton's organic cider on, which they had to fetch from downstairs. I would like to tell you about some of the conversations we had, but I can't recall them. It's a cracking pub.
Definitely – didn’t Alaska have a kind of UBI at some point?
Hope you’re managing to avoid as much of the slash and burn going on over there. It’s astonishing to watch – but we’ll get caught up in these tariffs too, and the courage Trump gives to right-wing demagogues everywhere.
Will find out the result of the p/t request in a few days.