Jan 22nd

TF it's Friday. I am just about done! Another 5 hour marathon in Croxley Green. It's hard to say I look forward with glee to another mega sesh with T, it's very much something to be worked through. Visit the DTC at Watford for the first time. Very much the archetype of the place. Dreary, drafty, a grim utilitarian place, perched on the edge of the A41. Apparently some tests spill straight out onto that road, which careers past at 70 miles per hour, which tends to give lie to the DSA statement that the objective is to make every test the same.
Fuell prices in Watford are below £1.00 per litre, the first time this has happened for several weeks. I wonder if this might be the last time I pay this "little" for fuel.
A brief bite to eat in Tesco's. How much blody money do I throw at them in the course of a week's snack breaks. It's strictly grapes and sushi this week though, as due to tlast weekend's illness,, my weight plummeted, and I intend to do all I can to keep it at 13st 7lbs or below. We shall see.
After a three hour lesson with T, it's home and ready for a night playing skittles with the Association members. We are a bit cut off in a room of our own, and it would be hard to say that we all strike it off like a house on fire, though J, R, and M are all good companyat various times, and H seems to strike a friendship with G the battleaxe, the best looking of the women by quite a distance. Lanky K of the AA, who I met in the DTC last week is the star of the show, and the boys triumph. It's actually quite a fun evening, with a decent buffet put on at half time. We head for a pint in the "Ship" in Marlow, and it suddenly dawns on me how bloody old we are compared with the rest of the clientelle. To the extend that I start to feel m age, and start to worry about tomorrow's early start. Whereas once, I'd be concocting strategies to be allowed to stay for ann extra couple of pints, now I am waiting impatiently for H to finish her half so I can get back to bed. Oh dear, what ever happended to that optimistic youngster on thevideos? We now have Sophie walking and gurgling, and showing some signs of being recognisable as Sophie. Her grandparents look so young it is frightening, especially as I think of them now, staring their last few years on the planet square in the mush, with little to look forward to but fiurther declining health, and a continual bombardment from M for money, favours, more money. There was a big row last night, which resulted in him yet again beating a path to our door for cash. When he got here I was supposed to be bold and berate him for once again reducing Mum to tears, but as usual, when he arrived he was nice as pie, reasonableness itself, and really helpful as I struggled to fix new hooks to the ladder on Emsy's bed. As I contemplate the little my life has amounted to, it is hard not to feel sympathy for him, I can only imagine his desperation.
Again to the more desperate. The Ipswich murderer is banged up for the rest of his days, and if we thought he was a freak, then what goes on in the head of the other guy today convicted of murder, this time of a beautiful young model in Croydon. This one claimed in his defence that he found the girl naked and dead outside her home , and then had sex with her body. And that was the best light he wanted to be seen in. FFS.