p.

2

about "your son". It is so silly, really. I think I told you
that I had written to her & told her to make up her
mind that his name was Max.

I am now [started?], & will go on with this tomorrow. xxx H.x.

Wednesday - 3 Jan. I am becoming more & more dull & flat, I'm
afraid. & I do not find it very easy to know what to do
about it or do with myself. My work is so deadly
dull & uninteresting. & I am finding it increasingly
difficult to take much interest in it. I used to think
at one time that these [Lays?] would get their chance one
day. & that soon we should have more useful & more
exciting work & training. But apart from a little talk &
a few rumours, nothing happens. And so my enthusiasm
is pretty flat by now. And then there are other things
about which I have taken an interest. & tried to get
something done. & have changes made - but all to
no avail. And one gets no thanks & no credit for
trying. & so I think 'fuck it' - I will not bother
any more, & will just fiddle along with my own boring
job, & have more spare time, which I will use for
reading more books & writing more letters to you.
But it is hard to change one's nature. & if I see
something wrong I cannot help wanting to do
something about it. but that means writing a report,
or going to see somebody, & being rude, or persuading,
or suggesting, or half suggesting - instead of just
being able to do it. You say you are hard put to it
to prevent your mind from atrophying. & to be honest,
I am the same, if not moreso than you. What I say
above rather gives the impression of boundless energy
looking for an outlet. But the last few weeks
my energy seems to have sagged rather - & I feel
badly in need of a [illegible]. I find myself rather