Thus morning I found a chill mat for my laptop and this is the first time I’ve tried using the keyboard, which is now raised a little and slopes a little. I like the way the screen is slightly higher, but I’m not sure about the height of the keyboard. Perhaps this will help prevent the backs of my hands from aching when I spend long hours at the desk. I hope so.
Ah! But the screen height does make a difference.
Strange week. I was fine for half of it but struggled through the rest. Monday: archive work in the NLS, which was interesting; Tuesday: Cedar to the vet and work for the publishing students, whom I saw on Wednesday before a stroll round the town with R, collecting new sunglasses and Boots stuff and a long evening dogwalk in torrential rain in D forest; Thursday: work on a student’s submissions for a meeting on Friday; and a long dry cool walk with the dogs in the forest; yesterday: meeting with a CELT postgrad followed by one with a linguistics undergrad, then nothing very much despite good intentions until a long, wet walk with dogs in the forest. Too tired to do very much mostly – even to read a novel.
May’s disastrous general election took place on Thursday, of course. I woke early on Friday and was glued to the BBC election Twitter site so saw the last results come in, hazily doing arithmetic to ensure I didn’t miss the result that meant the Tories had lost their majority; and grinning at the number of seats the SNP had lost. Not that the resulting hung parliament is a comfortable result. May, despite the loud signals sent by the electorate, has decided to persevere and form a minority government, with the aid of the DUP, for heaven’s sake. Still, that will ensure a soft(er) Brexit, I suppose; and, providing the powers that be see sense, a change of PM over the summer; plus Nicola Sturgeon has perhaps finally begun to realise that many SNP votes are largely tactical – something you’d have thought she’d have taken on board when the support for the SNP during the Scottish parliamentary election was followed by a No result from the Indy Ref. But politicians in the main aren’t noted for anything other than narcissism these days – Corbyn aside.
I am, I find, being more honest about the ME. Not quite accurate – I have no option but to be more honest about it, as it’s becoming impossible to work around it. I’ve been trying to squirrel it away, to keep it private, for months, but now I hit a wall more often than not, so can’t do this any longer.
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