I have not given up. I am not giving up!
I have lost some lustre in my eyes. Lacklustre. A good word.
I have been wobbling like a pale blancmange these past few weeks.
Legs going from beneath me.
Stomach falling away towards earth, like when you travel in a hyper-fast lift.
I have not been myself. A trifle manic. Which goes with the blancmange.
My life. The economy which apparently means I must lose my means of sustenance: my job.
I know I am not alone. That doesn't always help.
This week I have been advised to put on my 'stiff upper lip'.
That actually helped. Thank you, GJ!
Is this the British disease?
I'm off to see Paloma Faith this weekend. Whoopee.
I need a little colour in my life. A trifle gaiety.