JOURNAL - 1999 - DECEMBER

4 December 1999

Oh the work goes on. I am a machine. Now entering the production week for the last issues of the year. Thereafter, waiting for me, are 250 pages of the transport book, to be proof read, one and a half times, plus the indexes need doing, plus oh so much more - help I am drowning.

At the same time, I am having one of the hardest times with Adam. He has had one of the worst colds of his life and has been really poorly for more than a week. He was only off school for a day, but I think he should have been off for longer. For nearly four days he reported a constant headache, which really worried me. He had a similar headache some months ago, and I took him to the doctor, who didn’t seem particularly worried. Fortunately, my health has kept up so far. I need my strength to get through all this work awaiting me.

And Christmas is coming. And all that that entails.

And the Millennium is coming. I would so like to do something special for myself, make some pledge, take some physical action - something - but I can’t for the life of me think what. And, if I thought of something would I be able to do it.

I think Julian and family are popping in tomorrow. But I’ve got to keep writing.

Major world events pass by, and do not even get a mention in my diary: Northern Ireland now has a devolved government. Sinn Fein and the Ulster Unionists finally agreed on a fragile formula; a major mission to Mars has got lost; the war in Chechnya continues - Russia is condemned internationally but is feted domestically for bashing up the terrorists; England lose the first test match in South Africa disastrously; Arsenal go to the top of the Premier Division for a few hours this morning; Archer quits the race for mayor of London - the crook was found out, who did he think he was kidding; Livingstone gets his name on the ballot for the Labour candidate amid much huffing and puffing, odds on Dobson still winning.

2000

Paul K Lyons

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