sludge

Today seems somewhat ugly. With no reason to get out of bed, I kept myself there, periodically asleep and awake, until about one in the afternoon. Lora tends to lie in the dip of my back, or on my side, and her complacent purring serves as an additional demotivator when it comes to moving.

I will almost certainly ditch choir, there's no use in showing my face there today.

The only high-light I can name was the cheery quality to the voice of L. B. from the Samaritans, with whom I was discussing helping kids in need with their english. Not sure what I'm getting into, since there seems to b a lot of unpredictability with the rotation of the actual children, and she seems intent on having me opt for this group of ambiguously defined, mentally impaired youngsters with drinking problems. I am somewhat intimidated.

Gus seems to be on his toes about me inviting most male friends over/ going to visit them. Looking over most of the people I communicate with, guilt trips will ensue. Like yesterday, when Gints dropped by for tea and a walk to the lake, reminiscing about trips he'd had over the summer, and Arvis later informed me about his triumph over some test and the need to raise a glass to that. (Which ended up starting off in the "Gustavs Ādolfs" mini-restaurant, which I had previously visited only from the café to use the joint lavatory. Terrible, terrible music.) There was some unpleasant texting over the evening, and today I can't really talk to Gus at all. I don't think he realises how shit I am at spending my time alone.
Hard to know how to feel about what.

So here I am, pouring my heart out to the one person who will potentially read this, and it only makes me fell all the shittier. My sincerest apologies.