Guilt tripping.

Been another long day. Not helped by the fact that I'd had to abandon kids in order to be at college. Arrangements had fallen through, or rather, their dad had let them/me down yet again. Too busy to have them, even though he'd asked for them to come round to his at midday in the first place. By the time I'd finally managed to get hold of him last night to confirm, and had him tell me he now couldn't/wouldn't do it, it was too late. Too late to ask my friends, too late to find an alternative.

Suggested Billy accompany me in for the day as Lucy had slept over at a friend's the night before, but not surprisingly, not keen. He would've been bored stiff, and it was such a long day. Leaving at 8am, back at just before 7pm. Even I can appreciate being lonely in the company of tele and a computer, a far more attractive proposition. Didn't make me feel any better though. Or less guilty.

Don't know whether that was the reason why I didn't really get into today's sessions, or whether I was just tired – having an off day. Or if it just wasn't a very stimulating. Certainly was drifting during the guest speaker's talk on the history of reading and writing. Ordinarily would've been quite interested, but struggling today. Kept wondering if the kids were ok which wasn't helping. Hoping they'd managed to forage for food and steered clear of electrocuting themselves by toaster.

No sooner had I walked through the front door than it was the what's-for-dinner-mum mantra. Unfortunately, dinner turned out to be a ghastly selection of reheated leftovers. Had to be quick. Had to get Eddie to Surf Lifeguard training 20 mins ago. Walkman batteries boosted enough by their brief re-charge for me to continue listening to Jazz on the drive over. Sat in the car and read some more Wuthering Heights by street lamp when we got there.

Back home, and the washing needs sorting – damp clothes ready for the rack. Already our house is becoming gruesomely cold and damp. That smell colours the air a kind of greyish-green, nose-wrinkling the minute you step through the front door. A musty, moldy odor no Oust can oust. Am hideously late for band practice. Have a gig on Saturday, somebody's 40^th, so have to go. Little kids coming with me so they can keep Rory (Graham's lad) company, and I can keep company with Graham. Have a blissful night with someone alongside of me. Feeling the warmth of their breath. Comforted by skin, and the solidity of another body. If I'm lucky, there'll be a smiley cup of tea brought up for me in the morning.