This was my Thursday:
1. Woke up to news that the pro-Palestinian encampment at York had been closed by the university, with the complicity of dozens of police officers after less than a day and a half. I didn’t get to know the organizers well, but they seemed like decent kids who didn’t deserve this. Couldn’t get through York’s mealy-mouthed press release without wanting to throw up, so stopped reading it. Not a proud day for my alma mater.
2. Went to the bank. The less said about the parlous state of my finances, the better.
3. Went to the dentist. The less said about the parlous state of my mouth, the better.
4. I have a new addition to the list of the ways my body is malfunctioning in my old age: I seem to have split the thumbnail of my right hand down the middle (there is a trail of blood under the nail itself that runs almost the entire length of the nail). I have no idea how this happened. It was accompanied by a low level ache that followed me through the day.
5. Pretty Boy, my favourite of the four cats in the house, is dying. I will have more to say about that soon, I’m afraid.
“Here’s to the soul of the man who takes toll for just staying alive.”
– The Strawbs, “Heavy Disguise”