Unbelievably ghastly day. The bipolar stuff leads you to this point on occasion.
Completely unable to get out of bed for sheer terror till 2 p.m. No chance of getting anything written. Supposed to be manning the soup kitchen and singing in the evening. No bloody chance.
Stuff in the papers about people on incapacity benefit being really able to work. I suspect it's all balls. For each person with made-up backache there are ten with fits of the horrors which would never let them get through a day in the modern workplace with psychopathic bosses and back-biting colleagues.
Thank God I don't have to be in anyone's bleeding office.
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