Everything put together falls apart

sion_a and I have split up.

We're still both staying in the same house, and we're hoping we can make things work as friends and housemates -- it would be foolish to throw away all the love and affection that still exists between us just because it isn't going to work out the way we hoped it would.

Nothing else I can say at the moment except thank you everybody who helped look after both of us this weekend.

one day at a time

So they let me go home at lunchtime, and after all I had done lots of work this morning, so much so that Gawen was impressed and said he wouldn't have complained if that had been an entire day's work, and perhaps if he knew that that work only took me 45 minutes he'd understand why I get so bored with my job, and I'm not sure why having done plenty of work should make somebody more likely to let me go home because I can't cope with work, but hey, these people aren't paid to think, you know.

Earlier in the morning Cynical Richard asked "how are you?" as we stood in the sandwich queue (I'm reminded of the priest in the fish-and-chip queue) and he subsequently not only took the time to sit outside with me for a bit and be generally comforting, but even reassured me that if he said "how are you?" he really did mean that he wanted to know how I was.

Went in search of lunch and a hug. hoiho and I unsurprisingly failed to find a pub that was still serving food at 2:30, or rather gave up on pubs when we got as far as Cafe Uno, as we decided that pasta would be a better idea than pub food. Nice food but I barely managed to finish half of it.

Flaked out for a bit at 13FR, managed a desultory look through the new JobFinder, then suddenly decided a bit later to try to get pto452 out and see if she was driveable with the new fan fitted (I've been procrastinating out of general paranoia since her fan blade snapped). We only took her as far as the Texaco (she was in dire need of petrol), but she drove fine. Right-hand trafficator was playing up again, but at least a right hand-signal is the only one that stands a hope in hell of being understood by the general public. Less worried now about getting her to Witchford to be fixed.

Bought a packet of Jelly Babies for sion_a, but he only really wanted the metaphorical variety.

Dinner was leftoversish, TV was repeated Christmas specials. Drinking port that we only bought because it was on special offer, and listening to a ripped CD which seems to keep skipping. These fragments, etc. Withered leaves about your feet. Your feet go stumbling on.