Days merge at the moment. Tuesday feels like Saturday. Shops are open too late, and it’s alright to drink sherry at ten in the morning. I am trying to keep up a routine in all this chaos, plodding to my room every day despite all the tinsel and merry making. Sometimes it seems more orderly to exist in a made up world rather than a real one, especially when the real one is so unruly. At least in my made up world I can have sentences, paragraphs and chapters. Characters generally do what I tell them to. You never know these days when some drunken office worker is going to bump into you in the street. And the streets in the real world are much colder than in my made up one.
Actually, I haven’t been going out much, although I did have a sentimental hour hanging things on the artificial Christmas tree. It has less branches than it used to, but I like the way it is recycled over and over again. Soon it will just be a plastic stand and a stalk.
I hope you are all feeling mulled.