Write out 100 times, I shall not moan

Yesterday was a challenging day, in many ways. Work was a pain, and some interesting things happened on a not-work front too, though those seem to be sorting themselves out. With the swollen ankle at its worst, (it feels much much better this morning) I was in a pretty foul mood when I arrived home last night.

Then my neighbour appeared with his son. His son is 6 weeks old, as anyone who was in my flat about five-and-a-half weeks ago will be able to tell you. He's lovely.

So I chatted briefly to my neighbour, who was beaming throughout, with almost sickening paternal pride. Then I thought, why sickening? The man has every reason to be proud. I mean, fair enough, we know how it works, and from the man's point of view at least, it's not difficult. But he and his wife (I assume wife, they seem pretty straight-laced) have probably gone almost without sleep for a month and a half, the three of them live in a space similar to one that I find cramped on my own, and he can still smile at someone who is all but a perfect stranger.

All in all, I have little to moan about.