Busy day. To begin with, I did some more work on the book about my life, then I finished a holiday story I’d been working on yesterday so that it’s ready to send to Take a Break. After that, I started putting down the floor tiles in the bathroom. Two hours later, and it was almost finished but I’m too shattered to carry on. There are lots of fiddly bits left to do and there’s no point trying to do those when I’m tired.
Tomorrow I have to go to the other side of Leeds, looking for wallpaper. All I want is something washable and relatively plain i.e. not a tile pattern, but I can’t find it anywhere, even my beloved eBay has let me down.
I had a bad night. When I’m stressed, I dream about fish in trouble – not being fed, too little water, overcrowded, that kind of thing. Last night it was shubunkins. One was in a jam jar of all things. On the outside I’m staying calm but it seems that my subconscious is fretting for me. I just wish there was some news. Mum’s more or less stopped phoning. She called on Sunday, but there’s been nothing since. If she doesn’t call soon, I’ll have to call her. .
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