I nearly did not write

Nothing to report. Writing it down anyway, on the theory that a journal made only of eventful weeks would give a false impression of the whole thing.

An unremarkable week. Ate, walked, worked, slept adequately. This is what most of it looks like.

Quiet. Injection Tuesday, mild Wednesday, fine by Thursday, and then a normal weekend.

No news. The dog is well, the weather has been foul, and I have taken my medication on the correct day for the eleventh week running.

More when I know more.