Tuesday 13th April
I still only had one other taker for my golf night, so I wrote to Simon, Iman and Pete, even though they should have all seen my earlier publicity. Simon said he’d come while Mali said she’d love to have come but had another event and wants to be invited next time. I’d love to have invited sweet Ellie who also lives in Caledonian Road but I don’t seem to have got a contact for her.
I took my phone to the O2 shop at lunchtime, and all they could do was restore it to the factory settings, which I could have done myself by repeatedly entering the wrong code. After all that, I realised that I had been putting in a 6-digit version of my 4-digit code. Most of the stuff, I managed to restore, but I couldn’t get my watch and headphones to connect to Bluetooth, not that I spent much time trying to work it out.
At home, I spoke to Elina for over an hour, but she did most of the talking, moaning about how Mark treats her, even though she tells me she loves to hear my voice.
My boss finished at 16:00, and Jack had been seeing his friend at lunchtime, so we went to the newly-reopened Notes and sat in the sun for a bit, before I went on my run. They were using cups with 'Season's Greetings' and 'Christmas' on, which they must have ordered but hadn't been able to use when London suddenly went into Tier 4 lockdown in December. I was going to Stoke Newington to help make a path in the garden of an estate. I actually cancelled the task at one stage, but reasoned that it was the best way to get my run in, as per the training plan. I ran the nice way to Clissold Park, then through the park and the cemetery, and up uncharted territory to the estate. I got there 25 minutes early, partly because I’d planned to run from home, rather than King’s Cross, and I met the two ladies who were planning the task.
We were making a stepping-stones sort of path by digging a hole, then placing three house-bricks alongside each other at intervals, and filling the hole with earth and sand. I had trouble getting the bricks to sit level with the ground, but a man (Raj) helped me. Jo was there, who I talked to about my forthcoming ultra. Louisa was there again, she is prepared to exchange pleasantries with me, but I don’t think she really wants to chat to me, which is all right, but a shame. I also spoke to an older Irish lady, Kathleen. No-one took any pictures. There was another girl there with glasses who may have been from the continent.
At home we watched the end of Dragon’s Den – featuring a pretty young black girl who cried when the Geordie lady made an offer for part of her hair product company. I had an nice African pie, and chips, but Jack had got too many carrots while I was out, and I couldn't eat all them. We watched an episode of Mock The Week, which seemed to have been recorded during the lockdown Tiers system (probably November), and was apparently the first series they’d done under the pandemic.
Before bed I’ve been reading my brother’s old knowledge magazines, which seem to help me sleep - subjects as varied as the Spanish Civil War, Emile Zatopek, and the manufacturing of silk. Of course, the regular hours, lack of alcohol, and all the running and tasks have probably helped me sleep so well. And I know when to stop, unlike when I look at Instagram late at night, and get diverted for ages to photos of sexy girls.