Day 631

Went round to see C in the evening, played darts.

And now the 1993 pontification: 1993 was the Year of Fear - I seemed to catch it from the general crime kerfuffle that started with James Bulger.

A year ago I had yet to be totally disillusioned with the language library. Now I'm still unemployed. My sole hope, really, for 1994 is to end this interregnum and get something proper and fulfilling to do. Everything can be fine.