Only now, a week before the Encceja, did I realise that I'd looked at the notice for prisoners - the normal date was 25 August. My God, how retarded and stupid I was, now it's only next year. The new hospital bed has finally arrived, along with a new mattress. It's higher than the old one, so it's better for reading on the computer. The fact that the wheel isn't broken and it doesn't scratch the floor when you pull it makes it a great bed. Now I have all the appliances and utensils I need.

They came to do my mother's social investigation to join the Civil Police and gave her 10 days to pay off her debts and clear her name. Although her examiner said that you can't fail because you have debts, my mother didn't want to risk it and wanted to sell the car, but as the buyer took too long, a friend lent her the money. It's for the best because she sold it at a low price, so she has more time to pay it off and sell it at the list price, or not sell it at all. After the investigation, all that's left is the oral exam next year.

I don't understand it, I do everything right, I go to sleep and wake up early, I pray the rosary every day, I read, I study, and yet this melancholy remains. This lack of zest for life, this desire to give up, this desire to go to sleep and never wake up again. Sometimes this Herculean effort to do routine things seems pointless. My God, my God, forgive me for being so ungrateful and give me strength, for I must be on the verge of collapse.

I got a positive opinion from the public prosecutor about the nurses' return, and I'm waiting for good news soon. I travelled to São Paulo and had lunch in a Japanese restaurant, a very cosy place with good music and great food. The schizophrenic woman who called me a crippled piece of shit had the nerve to send me a message, I replied with a simple gtfo and I was blocked. Great.