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Saturday, 18 March 2017

In which I'm climbing out...

Thanks to my chemical additives, I have, today, clawed my way to the perimeter of the deep black hole in which I've been residing these past weeks...

As long as the brutal jackboot of life doesn't stamp on my fingers , I shall be tentatively lifting my head above the parapet some time later today.

It won't be the head that's generally shown to the world so I'd shield your gaze, if I were you, Dear Reader. Personal grooming has gone down the lavatory of late and I resemble a gentleman of the road. (and very likely smell like one too.)

I say 'gentleman' advisedly since, as you know, Dear Reader the harvesting of super-floo-us hair is now a daily occurrence, or should be, in this case.

I do have a strimmer somewhere in the garden shed so as soon as the precipitation ceases I shall attend to my facial growth and macrame a couple of plant pot holders.

Blimey, I just re-read that last bit and it bordered on amusing. I must be on my way back.

Anyway, never shall I scoff at the depressed, or use that awful dismissive phrase, 'pull yourself together.'

AND

I shall most certainly follow my 'carer' BF's advice...

'Don't stop taking the tablets until things have settled down.'

Ooooh, I feel a bit peckish...

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