Weak end?

It's totally daft but even though it's more than thirty years since I had a 'normal' working week or, indeed regularly associated with anyone else who does, but there's still a residual cultural yearning to be doing something extra nice in the evenings and at weekends! I lay in bed for two hours this morning trying to get enthusiasm for seeing even a slightly different horizon to override the increasing effort required to get to one. I gave up and read the Radio Times to see what home based horizon expansion might be on offer..

There was an article about how, after the initial euphoria at the end of World war II some people who had paradoxically enjoyed its 'live for the moment' freedoms found it it hard to adjust. There was a quote from a 1954 novel set in the period, in which a character mourned this time as when 'people used to talk and sing and love; they used to meet; and above all they used to live'. There are a hundred and one reasons, I know, why neither war time joy nor lonely ill health may seem appropriate things to celebrate but reading those words, which summed up so well my feelings both yesterday evening and this morning, actually comforted me. It felt as if someone understood. An illusion of empathy, yes I know, but that's better than none sometimes. Something made me smile when all I'd been doing was sighing and feeling sad...don't knock it!