I would like to explain why I chose to to write about it. You see, I don't keep a paper diary anymore, so this thing is all I have. And I knew if I didn't write about how I felt about that trial on the day of the verdicts, gradually my thoughts on it would get pushed out replaced by other things. I needed to do it for myself.

I do think I will always remember it regardless, though. It was my first big trial at the Old Bailey and I was there for the tears, the laughter, the dull legal discussions, the exciting cross-examination and saw it all out to the bitter end. I'm trying not to think about it too much and am moving on with other stuff now. I still love the Old Bailey a massive amount, I just have to remember that.

Anyhoo, that was all I wanted to say on that.

***

I went out in London last night after work, which was a really enjoyable start to the weekend. Unfortunately I woke up this morning feeling like someone in the night had decided to hoover my face, and vacuumed up all of the moisture out of my mouth. Mmm.

I waited a few hours and drank a few litres of water and this afternoon I built up enough energy to go into town to retrieve my car from the car park I'd left it in.

And I decided to go to Tesco on the way home.

I'm telling you, it was THE most surreal visit to a supermarket I have had in a very long time. I went in and did a very small amount of shopping, paid, and went back to my car only to find my dad's parked next to it. WTF? Might not be that strange, you may think, but my dad lives 40 miles away. I'd had no phone call to say he would be over my neck of the woods and it was definitely his car, because he has one of those cringeworthy specialised number plates, although mercifully just his initials and some irrelevant letters/numbers rather than something horrendous like 'DAD 1' or 'B0BBY G'.

I thought I couldn't very well bugger off home without saying hello to my dad, so put my shopping in the car and headed back to the store. On the way in I drank some of my bottle of water and swallowed the wrong way, which produced some quite frankly comical choking noises. It was clearly a sign.

This is not one of Tesco's larger shops. I can walk from one end to the other in about 30 seconds. I looked up each aisle and couldn't see my dad. I walked back and forth THREE times and whilst feeling rather perplexed I bumped into bloody DAMIAN (swimming pool guy I went out with for two months last year. Things ended awkwardly) who I have not seen since sometime in July.

Unfortunately I was about two inches away from him so couldn't even entertain the idea that he might not have seen me, giving me the chance to go and hide under some turnips until the coast was clear. I must have come across as very rude as I tried to compose myself and said in a very flustered manner, 'My dad is somewhere in this shop and I have to find him,' and sped off like I had a burning house to go and extinguish, with him calling after me a very bemused 'Good luck!' To be fair I was sporting the hair-not-even-brushed-let-alone-washed look, coupled with no make-up and was in no mood to exchange pleasantries.

At that point I knew if I stayed there any longer something else disastrous would happen, so called it quits and fucked off home.

Very, very, very tired this evening. I have not achieved much today, though I have been sorting out and playing with my new steno, which arrived the other day (I'm afraid talking about the import tax is just too painful...sob!).

And here it is, my little Stentura 8000LX.

You can't really see but I wrote 'This is my lovely new machine. YAY.'

Today I steno-d to Saturday Kitchen, some gubbins about the Pussycat Dolls and a Sherlock Holmes film.

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