I went shopping today with my brother at Westfield Shopping Centre, and spent about £400 on clothes. Despite now being crippled financially for the rest of the month, I am glad I did it, since I spend a lot of money on perishables like the anti-Depressants that keep me ever so happy to go back to that awful job week after week, and it's nice to have something other than books to show for the hours of misery I spend there. Afterwards we went to the park and spent Lord-knows-how-long on the swings. It was a good day!
I've decided to convert back to the Traditionalist movement. I figured that since I have ''the burden of knowledge'', I am rather unhappy with things now, so perhaps with a good dose of Low Votive Masses of the Sacred Heart, chaplets of the Divine Mercy and thousands of decades of the Rosary I might once again become stupefied and cured of my unhappiness and start praising Benedict XVI as the ''healer'', who has reversed the damnable heresies of Bugnini (Heaven forbid separating Altar and Tabernacle!) with Summorum Pontificum and has once again restored the Usus Antiquior as the Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite (I mean it's not as though there are only two historical ''forms'' of the Roman Rite - Religious Orders and local custom are a myth) as never juridically abrogated etc. Why stop at that when I could join the '62 police and grass up any ''dissidents'', any deviation from strict observance of the Extraordinary Form (1962)? Of course to do that I'd have to commit intellectual suicide and is happiness really worth that?