Mea Culpa (No Doubt)

No call from my ex, who to my horror appeared at my door before I had had time to put my makeup on this morning. Because of this I did not manage to get out and buy the papers for my usual relaxing coffee break. He came bearing gifts: a copy of the Golden Ass, a catalogue from an antiwar exhibition held in 2007 at the Candid Arts Trust Gallery - Iraqi artists, and a catalogue from Winchester Art College student work published in 1995. Also some Curiosity Cola with a quarter bottle of rum to drink during the day, rather early for me. I showed him how to use the mobile which he pocketed, explaining that he was a quick learner.

Somehow we got into an argument involving the family and he suddenly became completely hysterical, shouting about how he was the 'most important music composer in this country' and how he was going to treat children who were traumatised from the Iraq war, bringing them over to this country! Unfortunately I made all this worse by pointing out that he had not worked with children for about thirty years and would need a police check and that maybe experts in this kind of mental trauma already existed. Mention of the police really set him off on a long rant. Poor chap is totally deluded. At this point I realised that he might become violent and that I had provoked him too much, so I offered him some tea and orange cake, which calmed him down a bit. After another mug of tea and a cigarette, he eventually left at about five. Before he went, he told me that he had again seen his mother, who had seemed much better, and was the only person who really understood him.

I had to open all the windows for a long time after he left, the place smelled ghastly, and hope he doesn't appear again in a hurry. At least I might get some warning if he learns to use the mobile. I am glad he is getting on well with his mother, and hope he behaves himself when visiting her.

I then had a call from Madeleine, and after confessing my indiscretion, she said that it wasn't important and that nothing else mattered as her younger sister was very ill indeed,said she did not want to hear her brother's name again, then hung up. I passed this information to Dorothy who is apparently having difficulties at work and may be about to leave, possibly next week, because of problems with new management. In between all this I was emailing the vixens about poor Roxy's funeral arrangements.

I have had better days.