I went to a party last night.
It probably wasn't a good idea. I had the distinct impression that people were trying to avoid me.
Three times I went up to talk to an old friend of mine. Every time she walked off. Eventually, exasperated, I asked her why. "I'm sorry, it's just I don't know what to say," she replied.
(I'm not angry with her. I understand. Who wants to be confronted by the spectre of the Grim Reaper at a social event? A year ago I'd have been the same).
It became clear that someone who's just recovered from cancer, whose great friend died four days ago, and who doesn't even drink is not an ideal party guest.
I went to check my 'phone, in case the babysitter had rung, only to discover that there was a sodding coup going on in Turkey and hundreds were dead. Somehow it seemed like the final straw.
So I left.
And today everything just feels joyless. I can't quite work out what it's all for. And I have this huge urge to just press the big red self destruct button while shouting FUCK IT. FUCK IT ALL.
And that's not at all like me, as regular readers will testify.
Hopefully normal service will be resumed soon.