Having done what I had to yesterday, it was rather strange to occupy the same spaces today. Made me itch behind the eyes. The feeling would probably have been less frequent had I not had the spur to memory of muscle pain in my left hand and shoulder. Put me off my feed, and those of you who know me personally know just how fucking hard this is to do.
I was tired and irritable all day. Until soccer practice, where all but the girls and the game faded form my mind. We came home and ate well. I read my daughter another Chapter of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.
I vegged for five minutes, then retreated to the bed where I wrote about 15oo words in an hour or so. Production would have been higher, but I had to work through some sensitive subject matter to a conclusion I think satisfies. I hope to finish this weekend.
Saturday is my 38th Birthday. Fuck me. So much to do, so little time.