He invited me to breakfast and then spent the time talking to somebody else. Poor me - for being miffed.

A fabulous day was followed by a perfectly dreadful one. Surely there cannot be a rule of nature that determines this sequence.

Some people make statements into questions? They do this both in vocal inflection and in written punctuation?
I wonder why they do it?

Computers are useful tools. They become very damaging masters or mistresses when the amount of time given to them leaves little for anything else.

There are always rough edges in any relationship. Dealing with them helps a relationship to progress. Ignoring them - particularly our own - is potentially disastrous.

Taking too little, or taking too much, responsibility can be equally damaging.

My life seems to have pivoted about a cental point in my sixties. It was all creative and adventurous before that . Since then, it has plateaued and then deteriorated. I suppose that process happens in everybody's life, with varying focal points. However, there is another palindromic effect that I am not sure happens to everybody: I am now on the receiving end of behaviour that I previously gave out. When I was considerate, I built up a store of goodwill, from which I am now getting the benefit. When I was inconsiderate, I now get paid back. That is all fair enough. What I find spooky is that I am increasingly aware of what I was like previously - because I now see myself coming the other way. I am familiar with the principle that 'what goes around comes around'. This current experience is uncannily more than that: each twist in circumstance seems to have been purpose-designed to show me what it was like to be on the receiving end of my former behaviour.

News photographs of the effects of natural disasters  (hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis, drouts, floods, whatever) and of man-made catastrophes (physical or economic warfare) remind me that, whatever my personal circumstances, there are a lot of people in worse states through no fault of their own. My own difficulties are often (but not always) self-induced.

Glyndebourne always does things superbly. Tonight's performance of Wagner's 'Die Meistersiger' was exceptional even by their standards. I wish I could say the same for medical and counselling services. People in the entertainment industry seem to have a greater sense of professionalism. Theirs is always a competitive business.

I'm being chased again to join other people's networks. I can't see what's in it for me. It seems to me to work on the same basis as cold calling - and I like more personal contact than that because I want to be able to judge the quality of any association.

I had a blood test this morning. I didn't mind it at all. This must be a bad sign - but I'm not sure what of.

The tables were close together. The waitress was huge. I'm not sure that she's in the right restaurant or even in the right job.

If I were not committed to the Twelve Step programme, I doubt that I could have got through the last two traumatic years. Come to think of it, I think I would have died of old age years ago.

He says that he now realises that he has been in the wrong relationship for many years. I wonder if he has reflected on the fact that he chose it.

I've never seen her look so smart. It didn't surprise me that she has to appear in court later today.

I've missed two meetings because I had other engagements. I wasn't sorry. Even after all these years, I'm still at the stage of needing to go rather than wanting to go.

She said that she wanted to 'soften' what I had written. I think she's made it mushy.

Saying "I'm", rather than "My name is.."
gets you in quickly, particularly if you say it loudly - but it isn't very polite. I would have thought that consideration for others was a basic hallmark of recovery.

I'm doing a chair at what I'm told is an odd meeting. I anticipate that I shall rather like it.

If you have the skill to make one, you should be able to make another.

A moth came into the room and flapped around the meeting. I pointed her in the direction of my neighbour but she stayed in front of me.

I tend to fall asleep if I'm just sitting watching something. In an expensive seat that's boring.
Years ago I remember a sandwich man, who frequented Piccadilly, exhorting us to forego beans, lentils and sitting. I don't remember the penalty that would await us if we fell from Grace. Maybe I slept through his warning.

Her son died. My wife died. I wish that we'd had almost anything other than that in common.

I remember (who could forget?) seeing the positive balance in her current account.

I am unlikely to go bankrupt again because I have no borrowings and I'm covered for professional indemnity. I cannot lose my house because I haven't got one. I can't lose my employed staff because I haven't got any. I think I'll stay this way until I find something that is worth the risk - but that could be a long time away.

Why? I don't share the same values with those people who want to take my hard-earned money and give it to their friends - often hoping for their votes in exchange.

Surprisingly, I've never met One before but I've been asked to see Him now, as a result of what His doctors call a psychotic delusional break. Bearing in mind what was done to the first One, perhaps after what might have been termed a psychotic delusional break (if the diagnosis existed in those days) I have an open mind.

Emily Dickinson, the American poet, said "Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul". As  a using addict, I used not to understand that. Nowadays hope keeps me alive - which I suppose is what she means: it is mystical but practical, it is nebulous but it flies.

We both felt a bit down at the same time, yet we were a hundred miles apart. Just acknowledging it to each other brought us closer together.

I sent her a chunk of stuff. It would have been nice to have had some acknowledgement in return - but I suppose that the very fact that I look for it means that I have still not really understood the concept of giving.

Richard Bandler, the co-creator of Neuro-Linguistic Programming, says that, if we make notes, we miss something of what is going on and we are not allowing the brain to absorb information unconsciously - which it does very well, when allowed to do so.

On the standard qwerty keyboard 'I' is next to 'O'. It can change a sentence quite dramatically when a mis-hit  results in 'does' becoming 'dies'.

In a queue, time is stretched. In an examination, time is compressed. We all know that - regardless of what  our watches and clocks tell us. However, we can also use this fluidity to our advantage. I stretch time, when I am bright and breezy, by doing things that I like doing. This means that I get more done and that I do it better.

There are two ways of looking at this: that things are not going to get any better in the future or that there are wonderful things happening right now if we look for them.

Giuseppe Verdi wrote major operas in his eighties. What a wonderful example to those us going through difficult times in our seventies.

I don't know how many people read my blog. I write for those who do.

I've got so many lovely things in my calendar already for the rest of this year. I'm so fortunate.

I want to finish the book that I'm currently writing. I've got the ideas and the structure. There's only one thing missing at present.

There is one thing really missing in my life.

I'm not: people still remember me and I still know what I want to do with my life.

I like to believe that I am sensitive - but in the wrong way. This proves that I'm not!

There's a cure: people - going out to find them and bringing some form of happiness (that they would want) into their lives. The important feature of this cure is that it is an active process, rather than a submissive one, like taking medication.

They came all the way to Canterbury, soon after Margaret died, simply to take me out to lunch. Today they took me out to lunch in London and I introduced Pat (with whom I now live) to them. Life goes on -but the friends stay just as wonderful as they were before.

My mind wanders all over the place. That's ok - I'll rein it back in when I need it. It's just enjoying itself: no harm in that.

It's beautiful. It will dominate my room. You never know, it might look rather fine.

Come on girls, calm down now. Stop all that racket. Gently, gently. Get off your horses and come to group...Shut up, for heaven's sake. Oh ye Gods....
Please, Mr Wagner,  can you do something to help? Get off that woman, please.... I might have known....

What is the product?
What is the potential Market?
What do the customers want for themselves?
How do I put all that together into a saleable package?
The principles of marketing are not difficult to work out. I can do that for myself - but I can't put them into practice unless I really believe in the product and in its relevance to today's market.

The more I look at religious ideas, the less I am convinced by them: there's too much wishful thinking. Also there's too much pyramid selling for my comfort.

It's gone. It's all gone. It won't come back. I therefore have no choice other than to look to the future and create something new - and make it fun.

I have so many wonderfully happy memories. Now it's up to me to generate the new experiences that will be the foundation for some more.

On behalf of my late wife, he felt that he had a responsibility for me. That was nice but I don't need it now - and he recognises that. I have come through the initial period of desperate loss, I need to find my own way forward.