Rien

as Louis XVI wrote on the day of the storming of the Bastille. Rien, in fact, encompasses:

someone I was growing increasingly fond of going off to Forrin for three years. I told him more or less how I felt, as clearly as you can after about 2 bottles of wine, and he said that he wished I'd said all this two years ago. It doesn't feel great, but we are still in contact, so who knows.

me shopping a colleague for being increasingly uncommunicative and uncooperative, to the point of completely undermining me in front of our clients.

a weekend in Edinburgh on my own, which I enjoyed enormously. If hermitages could be kitted out with sofas and well-stocked bookshelves, I'd sign up like a shot.

I made a half-hearted attempt to stop taking Prozac. Well, it was actually down to incompetence and not getting to the doctor's for fresh stocks. Now I have an appointment for tomorrow and have resigned myself to the fact that when there are about 3 hours of daylight if you're lucky, and you are very much affected by the amount of daylight you see, it's not a good time to come off the mad pills.

I saw a card which I bought for a good friend - one of the Edward Monkton ones. It said "We must take our tablets or we will GO MAD". When I got home that day, my best friend gave me a present. It was a mug with exactly the same thing on it. This happens to us so often (my BF and me) that it's a running joke with our other friends, who claim we only have one brain between us.

Off to the Varsity match now, to ogle the thighs of 22 year olds and wonder where my youth went (flings self melodramatically from room).