A game of two halves

And with England now through to the quarter finals, I'd love to extend the footie metaphor, but I don't think it's match fit.

Last week was a bad week. It's just one of those things. Friday I was tired, which made me short-tempered, which meant I had a row with my wife, which meant I had to take out my frustrations with a bit of monkey punishment. It sucks. I'm useless. It's passed. My bad moments are a lot less bad than they once were. It's all relative. There is improvement.

Saturday I fought off the temptation. Just ignored it until it passed. It feels good to do that.

Sunday: I don't know if I was paying attention in church - possibly not to the sermon; maybe God had his own agenda for me - but I remembered a lot of stuff. How God will not let us be tempted beyond our ability to resist. How he's always there for us in the hard times. How he wants me to grow through this whole miserable experience, and ultimately come to a place where I can help others. How I am not, in fact, useless, whatever anonymous commenters might think :-P

And I got a fresh inspiration for the novel. Things started to fall back into place.

Things are looking up. I'm looking up.