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Mental is as mental does
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It's hard times all round, there's no avoiding that. Shit is flying at us all, out of a clear blue sky in some cases, but not mine.

Those very words took me straight to this, which I urge upon you for its invigorating properties:

So. I'm missing writing but I'm sick of moaning. I'm sick of moaning but it's all been a bit fucking shit. I can't live through it all again to write about it but there's barely a crack open to let anything else into my consciousness so no chance of writing about anything else.


Younger Daughter passed her driving test yesterday, first time - yay, go her, in the midst of packing up her life she nipped out and passed her test.

So (again, already, I know, but I can't forget that article I read absolutely prohibiting the use of 'so' as a whole sentence, almost as annoying as the one condemning adverbs under any circumstances ever, like a whole section of our language is simply wrong (I'll go back later and fill that sentence out with adverbs, obviously)).

So. They have to be out of their home on Tuesday. Their stuff can go into storage for a token fee until they have a proper home again, but they will have no access to it in the meantime. Removals will turn up on Tuesday morning to cart it all away and YD and her husband must turn up at the housing office with a couple of cases, a bag of bedding and a wheelchair, to find out where they're going to be put in bed and breakfast for up to a couple of years, maybe three. Within an area between Dagenham on the east, Croydon south, Harrow west and as far north as fucking Birmingham - no disrespect but that's a long way from home.

I went up there the other day, stayed the night and brought back a car load of stuff that they don't have room for but will want - camping gear, summer clothes, art materials. I put it in more expensive but accessible storage down here where it can stay till Bloke and I get our house, then we'll keep it there. I'm going up again at the weekend for her bike and all her etsy stuff. Husband's father is coming down with a van to take all the big art - honestly there's quite literally shedloads, two sheds to be precise.

Ach, it's late.

Forgotten where I was going with all that.

Laters xx

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