Valentine's Day at 13st10, and of course the morning sofa progs on TV have little else to fill their time with. I do my traditional thing. Sweet fuck all! What a bastard! Couldn't I for once just get of my high horse and surprise her? I doubt it!!!
T's last lesson. He drives impeccably, and we talk about his band practice and his forthcoming trip to California. He mentions his Dad says it's possible to change gear without using the clutch and I show him how. Clever.
Have a five hour marathon with S and i get pretty confident about his chances. Again though he gets tired and starts making stupid mistakes. It brings it home to me how tiring it is. I am knackered too. I send him home for half an hour to recuperate, and then let hom go for a gentle drive in the country.
In the evening I am ordered to HG school to attend a dance and gym evening. It's all very well intentioned, and a motley group of shapes and sizes do their very nest to put on a co ordinated show. As alwasy though, one or two real talents serve only to highlight the mediocrity of the rest. But the enjoyment can't be denied and well done to them for that.
Surprisingly SW was there which was a relief. I also spoke to Tuna afterwards. She always seems slightly dissaproving of me, but she does sometimes have a sharp turn of wit.
H takes the kids home and shoves bucketfuls of KFC into them, then meets me in Wetherspoons for plaice and chips, " meals and drinks for under a tenner. It's a reliable standby. Miss QT though, which is a shame as I like to throw things at the self righteous Melanie Phillips with her "don't say I didn't warn you" rants from start to finish
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