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Wittering on
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I'm awash with what can definitely be classed as first world problems, none of them anything other than irritations really, but they add up when a person's fighting the loss of friends and the advent of family, into the home; the arrival of my discharge letter from the hospital (a copy of the one they sent my GP, into whose care I have been returned) and the realisation that all the fucking things I learned and all the good practices I cultivated for keeping me steady when times were tough(er) have been abandoned over the course of the last two weeks and I'm already in quite a bad place.

So I went to yoga at the Buddhist Centre today, which was hard and I fucked up with parking due to lack of ability to think and plan, ending up paying thirteen poxy quid for three hours, which is a) a ridiculous price and b) the choice we've made about how we want our city - we could knock down more old buildings and build more car parks (no thanks), or we could make the ones we do have cheaper, but we had years of that, the queues to get in blocking the traffic all over town, but we're now doing cheap on-street round the edges then walk or catch a bus, but I couldn't decide which way to go, ach it was all awful, but I got there in good time and then it was all good, to hand over control of my movement to the teacher, who also witters on about being and oneness and stuff I don't make much sense of but which washes over me in a gentle stream, holding the rest of my life back for an hour as my body is teased back into some kind of presence.

I'm in the new bedroom now, painted a light sage green, with everything else either wooden or off-white. A right mish mash of woods and styles and ages, which I'm glad about because I hate the whole designery shite and want this to be a place a do things in rather than a place I tend for its visual appeal. I haven't got anything on the walls yet because I don't know where all the pictures are - they're in here somewhere. It's going to be a room I like but it isn't yet. Right now I just struggle with things being unfamiliar, again, with how to live in it and with it not having a door.

I took my sleeping pill before I started and now it's making me woozy - bedtime has landed

Laters xxx

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