I bought one of those ready-made diaries, you know, the ones that have all your days planned and timetabled for you, down to the last detail. Everything has been thought of: I know exactly where I’ll be in a month’s time, what I’m doing this weekend, having for dinner tomorrow, what I’ll watch on TV tonight, I even know when to breathe. Life is so much easier now, I don’t have to think about a thing, freeing up my thoughts for… whatever else there is.
At least that was the plan.
I left the bloody diary on a train. I don’t know what to do. Until next year, when I get a new diary.