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At home, I passed out cold after dinner (pasta, and a gobful of fig rolls, never the most nutritious dinner, but surely not the worst) then awoke half an hour later to read Poor Economics, a book that is hair-raising in its description of how people live in poverty. I kept putting it down, incredulous at how irrational people are, and then remembering that I'm not a paragon of rationality myself. It seems one of the greater triumphs of public health is using a bribe of new dishes to get people to immunise their children; neither the free market, nor education, get much of a look in.
After a quarter of this, a rather dystopian vision of the world emerges, where to succeed in helping people you may have to bribe them: it's far from liberalism, but that's not so bad a thing, perhaps. Until you decide you should be allowed to have as much tapeworm in your family as you decide.
After this, I felt it was high time I went for a run, but I only managed five minutes before the battery in my watch ran out, and as there's no point in doing things if you can't record them, I went straight home again instead.
There I got my wife to read to me from a book of pilates exercises. This was rather a frustrating exercise as my wife had a sudden and uncharacteristic attack of illiteracy, which meant I would be kinked on the floor in one painful position or another, while she issued a long and pregnant pause, then flubbing the next important instruction. I'd lie on the floor, increasingly aggrieved and enraged, and then my wife would read something else out, and I'd get more confused, and wonder why I was subjecting us to something we were both finding so difficult. Because it's relaxing, obviously.
Some things are not so good to do together, and once again my arm is twitching. Perhaps tomorrow I'll be full of energy once more. In the meantime, there's more Harry Potter.
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