Jan 21st

50 years and six months today, a fact that occurred to me late in the day. A day which started as grey as can still be grey without crossing over to black. Got the kids to school, Dan the statutary 5 minutes late, and then headed back and could find no inspiration other than to spend the morning netperving.
Has a lesson at 12, L, who should pass her test on Thursday. Another one lost to me!
Come home and try and get some business cards made up on the laptop. Limited success. The weather goes form bad to worse, and with the decline in the weather the news gets gloomier and gloomier.
Apparently thi Monday in January is historically the worst day of the year. The Christmas bills hit home, the grim monotony of the daily grind is wearing us all down. It's the day more than any other when folk take a long sad look at themselves and their situation and find they don't much like what they see.
Speculation about a recession has been bubbling for months, but today shit hits the pan in a big way. The stock exchanges nosedive all around Europe. As if in sympathy vast swathes of thenorth and west of the country are swamped by the predicted floodwaters.
The family seems to divide into five. I lie on the couch looking at TV progs I don't want to watch.
Dan of course is hunched over some imaginary virtual battle, Sophie is studying alone, Ems flits in and out and H is I know not where, but is clearly not so well.
The house is a disgrace, and no one seems to have the energy to confront the situation. It's a deeply depressing day in all. I conclude it by following the well worn rut to a pint in the Falcon which becomes more dismal with each visit, and then the obligatory curry. Shashlick, not vindaloo, I must get the weight off.
The rain pounds down at times, driven in sheets across the road. The wind has joined the game now, the market stalls billowing like schooner sails the length of the high street. One gust is strong enough for me to lean into it. At least the wind brings a break from the grey monotony of the rain.