I think I have man flu. It’s the worse kind. More terrible than anything a woman or child could get. Tall Dark & Handsome has been rolling around with it for three days. Wondering if he’s going to live until tomorrow and “Will you get someone new when I’m gone”. I said I’d think about it. He asked me to marry him. I told him he was delirious. (He really was.) That was yesterday. Today I stayed home. Tried to write but couldn’t. Went for a walk. Nothing clears the mind these days like a frosty morning, James Blunt on the iPod and a warm winter coat. It gave me a head ache. Went into a gorgeous Victorian church across the way to photograph. My eyes hurt. Headed toward the Viper Lounge, a newish wine bar up the street, for something sauvignon. I couldn’t get the door opened. (closed?) Walked back to the flat. Went to bed. (duvet on the sofa). That was five hours ago. I think I’ll go back. I think I have man flu.