Up, betimes, and to my office reading all the way on my phone. There met my Lord, and much discourse of Dominic Cummings, of whom my Lord is very scepticall, saying no good will come of him, and endeed so say all men, and I think very true. Thence home, and found my wife in a state of great confusion over the sickness come late out of China. But though I tried to calm her, I could not, and hope we may yet have some peace, which God send us! So to our phones, and sat long in silence a-tapping, and bed.
Lay long in bed, and my wife telling me stories about the corrupt kings and ministers that are in America at this time, which she learned out of the New Yorker. For which I ought to love and admire her, for there are a great many, and men are appointed one day only to be cashiered the next, and so I do forget their names, and in time pay no mind to these distractions. Up, and to my office, and at Twitter all afternoon, with my work all neglected. So at the office late very busy. Thence home, and a great fray with my wife about a new leader for Labour in parliament. And I thought very strange that we should be so furious, for we are both of the mind that none is better than any other, and endeed could do nothing with the advancement, for their sort are piteously beaten, for which we are both very sorry.
Up, and to Westminster on foot, with the rain falling on my phone and me rubbing of it with my sleeve until I grew fearful the screen would break, from so much water. There walking met my Lord, who talked with pleasure of the world’s wickedness, and how it waxeth for the worse, and both of us very merry. I asked my Lord if he thought the world would end by warming, to which he said ‘Aye, and not a day too soon’, which I thought a pretty jest, with the weather so cold these recent weeks. Thence I to my office, and all afternoon opening and closing the Guardian homepage. And after some hours seeing with horror how long I had neglected my work, I resolved to stop up my WiFi, for the confusion of my papers is the worst I think I ever knew. Yet I swore the same last week, and have got nothing by it.
Up, and by tube to Westminster, reading on my phone the New York Times, and a long disquisition there of Russia, writ very fine. Meeting my Lord later I desired to explain to him what I had read, but could not, for I had forgot it. So home very late, and to bed.
This day by the grace of God it is six years that I have not read Mail Online, and I was never so happy as I am now. Up, betimes, and by tube to Westminster, greatly vexed that none had liked my tweet while I slept. Yet I think it a noble one, and so will not delete it, but endeavour. Arriving at my office I saw with great joy that the LRB and Economist were come, and spent several hours fondling them con grand plaisir. And both very fine I think. So late at the office, with my work still in confusion. Thence home, and my wife very sorrowful about the world, and showing me many articles about its wicked state, but I did not understand her long discourse. To supper, and there sat late with many toasts and great pleasure, and so to bed.
Up, my head aching with the oathes I was made to drink last night. Twittering all morning, though I hate it, as do all men, and it is very strange, for though I do thoroughly believe they would destroy it if they could, yet none has, and so they tarry there, and I amongst them. And in America all are in a great confusion, for their king is mad, yet none can challenge him. And thinking on this and other things I grew so wretched as I think I never was in my life. So all day at my phone, and very sorrowful.
My wife and I lying long this morning on our phones, she showed me many pretty jests, at which I was greatly pleased, and I resolved to ask her for these each day, by which our love will increase. And both of us very merry. So up, and all day at my desk, where I found the WiFi in disarray, and I furious, desiring greatly to have the internet, but could not, and was like a man in need of snuff who cannot get it. Yet soon I was happily at my work, by which I think at last I may profit, though it was never so confused. So all day happy at work, and no news, which I thought a great blessing, and would put away my internet more often were it not for my sinful weakness. And so to supper with my wife, and bed.