I suspect this may be a week of deep insights. Such a week occasionally happens. Enlightenment occurs on a daily basis. Today's insight came as I walked home and passed by a geriatric with a long white flowing beard. Oxford is blessed with an unusually large number of people with big white beards. Two thirds of them are very old. Two thirds of them are completely barking. This therefore gives us patricians, loonies and professors in equal proportion.   The blind panic of Sunday has subsided into the usual resignation of a Monday. I am now blessed with feeling tired and fuzzy all the time. I have no other symptoms. Nothing to show the doctor. Nothing to show my tutors. I still have my vampire cough (it only comes out at night, and goes straight for the throat). Tutorial work does not get done when you keep finding you've slept for the past half hour. I keep waking up face down in Reactive Intermediates.   Today is also Chris' birthday, which he celebrated in Flat Five style by working in the library all day. He did not return for dinner, so Mark and I went and got a take-away curry. It was that or mince. I couldn't face mince. The flat is experiencing a food crisis. We are breadless, fruitless, crispless, orange squashless and vegetableless. We have cheese, ham and beer. I cannot drink the beer, since I will go to sleep even faster.
			The characters and situations in this diary are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happenings. Any resemblance to such things is coincidental, or just for humourous effect. All names have been chosen to implicate the innocent.