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Tuesday, 16 May 2017

In which I itch...

I hope the person who gives me a lift to work has got their car fixed or neither of us will be sallying forth again today.

SOP House makes me itch, it's so whiffy.

I have left strict instructions to have a bullet put through my head in the event of my even found saying, 'now what did I come in here for?'

Each day brings with it a new task not found on my job description and a fresh humiliation. The toxic phrase, 'and any other task' covers that, I imagine.

If only I had a pension, or a husband with a pension I wouldn't have to die in the saddle. But no, our money was in property and we all know that sorry story don't we, Dear Reader.

The future is a bleak and scary place, much like the present.

Maybe I'll get lucky and be run over by a bus today.


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