I had another very lazy and boring day yesterday. The biggest excitement was feeling like I had a fever because I was feeling so cold. This time I remembered to check my temperature using my digital clinical thermometer. It was a mere 35.4° C, and that meant it wasn't me, but the weather that had caught a cold. I could do one of two things. One was to put on winter clothes, or the other was to plug the fan heater back in, and run it on low for a while. It seemed to take very little time to warm the room up enough for it to start to feel quite warm, and then almost too warm. It sometime seems that the transition from feeling cold to feeling warm happens over a very narrow temperature range of just a few degrees. Of course it does depend on what you are doing. At the time I turned the heater of I was very sedate doing nothing more strenuous than reading a book.

  A little later I warmed myself up by my own efforts by doing a bit of laundry. I had realised that if I threw in an old t-shirt that I now think I am unlikely to ever wear again, I had enough stuff to justify a whites only wash (where whites only can include light blues too). The t-shirt I added to the wash was a 1995 Wetherspoons Beer Festival t-shirt (from the days when Wetherspoons was sort of exciting). The wear on it suggests I did once wear it, but I must have been going through a very thin phase at the time, although a couple of small holes near the bottom suggest I was tucking it into my trousers, and doing the belt up tight to keep my belly from flopping out. Over the last 25 years it had become very stained with tar and nicotine. It doesn't look exactly white now, but it's not so grubby looking. I guess I could try to wear it if I could think of a reason to do so. It might be more useful to cut out the picture on the front and frame it. Someone would probably be stupid enough to pay money for it on Ebay.

  Despite doing that washing, and a few other minor things, yesterday was mostly a waste of a day. The grey light outside left me feeling quite depressed, and very unmotivated. The only motivation I did have was to develop a yearning for fish and chips for some unknown reason. In the end I abandoned the idea of cooking anything that I had managed to buy when I did my first shopping in Aldi since lockdown, and ended up buying another takeaway. I ordered from a typical chip shop that had become a kebab shop.

  The fish was nice, and the chips were nice, but typically there were far more chips than needed. I should have left half of them, but I continued stuffing them in my mouth because initially they were really nice. At the end I felt well stuffed, and I knew that I had just undone at least a weeks worth of careful eating. It was quite an expensive mistake as well as a stupid one. I also ordered a chicken shish kebab for dinner tonight. I too a quick peek at it before I put it in the fridge, and it doesn't look very nice, but I will actually judge it when I eat it.

  I had another early(ish) night last night. I had gone to bed early because I couldn't think of anything better to do, and reading a book in bed, with the duvet over me, was the best way to keep warm as the temperature dropped in the evening. By 9.30pm I had put down the book, and I was fast asleep. It seemed I needed the sleep because I slept fairly well last night. The only interruptions were the few times I got up to pee in the night. They did give me a chance to try and remember some dreams.

  While I did my best to try and remember something of my dreams, I actually remember very little of most of them. For one dream I just remember a quote - "one out of two people hide their dead relatives in the garden shed". It sounds macabre, but I think my dream was about reading nonsense sayings on the internet. A slightly weirder dream involved a new building opposite my bedroom. It featured a very large blank wall made of bricks. I seemed to wake up one morning to find that two huge clocks had been installed on the wall. They were just skeleton clocks - two plain hands with just unnumbered diamond shaped markers for the hours. Quite why there needed to be two identical clocks was a mystery.

  It was also a mystery as to who was supposed to see those clocks because there was no specific viewing point from the back streets which they looked over. In the dream I had a small clock, or the same sort of design, in my bedroom. Suddenly all three went into a mode where the hands started spinning around until they had reached 12 O'clock. Back in the real world I have seen radio controlled clocks do this when they have lost the radio signal. The next thing was that all power was lost. If I hadn't woken up at that point I expect the next thing that happened in the dream would be something apocalyptic.

  This morning my blood glucose is very high (9.1mmol/l if I recall correctly). I haven't dared to check my weight. Other than that, I don't feel too bad, and sometime I am tempted to think that I may feel slightly better than normal, but on the other hand, my guts feel a bit "stodgy", and that detracts from feeling that good. I guess I am going to have to do something about it today. I want to go to the Sainsbury's Local shop by Catford station to buy a copy of New Scientist, and probably other stuff as takes my fancy at the time. I guess I could do that as part of a walk in the River Pool Linear Park. I think I could take a chance on it not raining, but I'll keep an eye on the forecast, and maybe I might try and go out just as the next sunny spell happens...Well not the next one. I won't be ready by then, but when a suitable sunny spell comes along.