Am finally surfacing from three days of inertia, sleep and fragility. Perhaps that was real (as opposed to 'man') flu. The most strenuous activities I could manage were soup making and reading. This week will be a new beginning, especially on the writing and Utility Warehouse fronts. Tony's script for friends and colleagues I shall deploy, as well as regular attendance at COPs and the like. I believe Lorna may even trust me now. For years she has thought of me as naive and unworldly; the contretemps in Shirley's presence was a breakthrough in at least two aspects. Even Tariq's self image of omniscience has been dented a little. He has at last realised that he may know a little less about my upbringing than I do; and, even more significant, he seems to acknowledge that as someone who has never been to a Kingdom Hall nor read a single book about the Jehovah's Witnesses, his assertion that JWs are the same as all the other religions may not be sustainable.

I shall give tango a miss tonight, but should be able to make myself of genuine use to tonight's music pupils. I must, however, start going to salsa classes once more or my repertoire of moves, far from expanding, will instead, atrophy.