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Wednesday, 18 March 2015

32

I wake, from the sight and sound of stripping wallpaper, I know where the bedroom is but I won't bore you with the detail, suffice to say that in my half-sense stupor I feel to be in that place as I get out of bed.

I recognise that I am doing something which makes the maximum impact for the minimum effort, my heart isn't in the task and I leave it, as most things, half-completed.