Thirty-five quid for meds again. I don't know what to do...I suppose I could sit on the pavement with a placard; 'Help keep my geriatric cat alive.'
Had all my hair chopped off; looks grotesque, feels soooo good.
Smiling TV people keep saying it's going to be really, really hot for the weekend. I'm not bloody smiling.
They're digging up Wandsworth Road right ouside. It's dusty and horrible and they're taking forever.
The weird phrase rolling around my head today is 'Dirk Bogarde's torture chamber'...didn't know he had one.