Imposter’s syndrome

All the morning very busy at the office preparing a last half-year’s account for my Lord Treasurer. At noon eat a bit and stepped to Sir Ph. Warwicke, by coach to my Lord Treasurer’s, and after some private conference and examining of my papers with him I did return into the City and to Sir G. Carteret, whom I found with the Commissioners of Prizes dining at Captain Cocke’s, in Broad Streete, very merry. Among other tricks, there did come a blind fiddler to the doore, and Sir G. Carteret did go to the doore and lead the blind fiddler by the hand in. Thence with Sir G. Carteret to my Lord Treasurer, and by and by come Sir W. Batten and Sir J. Minnes, and anon we come to my Lord, and there did lay open the expence for the six months past, and an estimate of the seven months to come, to November next: the first arising to above 500,000l., and the latter will, as we judge, come to above 1,000,000l..
But to see how my Lord Treasurer did bless himself, crying he could do no more than he could, nor give more money than he had, if the occasion and expence were never so great, which is but a sad story. And then to hear how like a passionate and ignorant asse Sir G. Carteret did harangue upon the abuse of Tickets did make me mad almost and yet was fain to hold my tongue. Thence home, vexed mightily to see how simply our greatest ministers do content themselves to understand and do things, while the King’s service in the meantime lies a-bleeding.
At my office late writing letters till ready to drop down asleep with my late sitting up of late, and running up and down a-days. So to bed.

at a conference my paper
tricks a blind hand into rising

like a tick to see
how simply I bleed

Erasure poem derived from The Diary of Samuel Pepys, Saturday 1 April 1665.

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