this is the post for the seventeenth, yesterday, the seventeenth of February.

 To repair the damage done by the failure to write in the diary it has become necessary to remember, it becomes clear that the days are forgettable now, they are lost as soon as they have happened. The new pill ordered by the doctor may well produce spectacular results, or it may produce none at all. The visit to the doctor yesterday has left a shock, it is easy to see his concern that there may be something amiss with this old body, the last attempt with powerful antibiotics, and then an attempt to find an early date for an operation. That will be the path when there are no other paths to be taken, and the sixteenth was spent in concerns about this.

This entry is for the seventeenth, and that day was spent with the joys of spreadsheets, trying to work out where the money had gone. It was a lot of money, really, all the money spent on the survival of three people and a cat over the past year. The reckoning is required by the tax office, so that the government may have the money to solve its problems. Tax returns have to made, and there is the year all in figures, all the incomes and expenditures.

The incomes are taxed, and the expenditures have been taxed many times already

And this is the post for the seventeenth, yesterday, the seventeenth of February.