I could live there without a struggle. .
Not an easy day. Weary, stomach pain, bleeding breast wound (it had stopped for a few days - 3 steps forward, 2 back..), it's chilly out there and the kitchen underfloor heating that made the place snug as a bug last winter won't work (£200 call-out: are they insane??). Frenzy of domestic pointlessness.
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Reassuring e-mails from JS & phone call from MP, all in all reminding me that painkillers addle my brain (can't remember pin number despite obscene spending habit), and that the world will be a brighter place when I've had a nap.
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Pottered among the statistics: who exactly reads this blog at the Czech Ministry of Finance? Or Mohawk College of Applied Arts, or Reuters? You're all equally welcome. You provide a moment of welcome escapism; hope the feeling's mutual.
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Radio 3 on. No brainpower to select tunes. Girl scout promise to come back cheerier on the morrow. xx
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