27 June, in the year of our Lord 2021
Today comes down my dose of Prendyslone to 15 grains, for which great relief, though my sleep, which is rarely good, hath improved less than I hoped, and now is also the season for hay Fever, which afflicktion I was to have grew out of, but after three centurys have not. After dinner, read in the gazette that the Secretarie for the Plague, Mr. Handcock, hath yesterday sent a letter to the First Lord of the Treasurie, and in it he resigns for his constitutional inabilitie to keep a Special Distance, or indeed any form of Distance, between him and an aide, which was come to light when a strong eyeglass spied him very clearly wanting to hacer lo que el voudrais con ella. I did hear that in the great construcktions of the Inkers in Perew the stones are so close-hewn that the blade of a Knife can not slip between them, and so seemed it with him and Mrs. Ginalolladangelo. None knows why the First Lord of the Treasurie hath not sacked him, even those upon his own benchs. I wondered that the King might dissolve Parlyament, as he is wont upon a whim, or the Queene adjourn her weekly meet with the First Lord, for she must rue them and, as it seems to me a certainty, have better things to do on a Wendesday like watch ‘Garden Resckew’ and ‘Escape to the Countrie’, as doth my mother.
After dinner took my exercise up the lane, where saw that above the former butchers premises hung outside a new sign, resplendent in a varnished frame, with bright gold lettering on black paynte-werk and advertising, though with a small but important punctuacional solecism, so that the shoppe is now announced to the publick as Gerard ~ Small Ladys Fashions, which cannot be good for sales. After supper all a-sneeze with the hay Fever despite my steroyds, it being the time of day when the grass releaseth its Pollenne. And so, sniffling, to bed, though my night restless.