This is one of those flow of conciousness posts, but given the present state of my conciousness that could result in a awfully looking mess. I seem to be unable to keep up with my correspondence, despite the exceedingly small volume I am getting. I labour over three word replies for hours. I lose threads of conversation and don’t pick them up again. There are things I should (must) do that do not happen.

I had to wait three hours at my doctor’s office for a scheduled appointment that lasted two minutes. I think my doctor must wonder at the state of torpor and general stupidity of his patients. His waiting room reminded me of airports I have found myself spending far, far, far too much time in. Would Mr Splogs please enter the office and unattended baggage will be confiscated and exploded.

The general tenor of the day was fixed and I haven’t been able to break it. Or maybe this all in my imagination and, in truth, I am as ineffectual every day of the week.