Dad’s birthday today. I don’t think of him as much, but things do remind me of him. Mainly me – I seem to become more like him as I grow older.
I only worked till 3 today – I’m fed up with work at the moment, + have lost all enthusiasm for it – I suppose it’s about time we moved on again. Ah well, just another month or so to go. There I go, wishing my life away. I came down + lazed by the pool for an hour or so, + then to work again. A hectic evening, with a large tour group in. They’re blasted Australians, who refuse to bring their glasses back to the bar, but expect a new one for every new drink..
Clearly my enthusiasm for writing the diary is fading. The final reference to my dad, I think… and after forty years I now look like him as well, though I have now outlasted him by a decade or so.
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