Wednesday

Over the past few years, I have developed a love hate relationship with my flat. When I was at my worst it was a prison, when I couldn't go out. Then it was my comfort, somewhere no one could see me, I could close the curtains and pretend I wasn't part of the world.  Then it became the place I was ill and didn't want to be reminded why. I couldn't stand being in the flat for an extended period of time. Now, I fluctuate between the two. 
Just now I don't want to be in the flat, it feels like a lonely place. 
I went out after work with my book and for a coffee. I drove around a bit then reluctantly came home. I'm about to take a sleeping pill, so I can pass out early. 

Starting a new book is always a bit nerve wracking. How long will it take to get into it, will I like it. So far, this one sounds good.