**pulls out a fresh tissue**
I've been slack, haven't I, and neglected you all horribly. I have no excuse except I've been zombied out on double clonazepam every day, I did a bit of gardening and spraying (as usual), made a couple of rather nice small bamboo screens and fucked my neck up, harvested shitloads of tomatoes and gave most of them away (as usual), played good mummy/taxi service (as usual), mowed the lawn and knocked my legs out (as usual), ran the new TV cable through to my room so I can watch Sky in bed and finished cleaning out the garden shed for the pigeons which we let out on Sunday and which promptly made a speedy beeline for home, not to be seen again.
I think tomorrow, for a change, I might go down to Mark's and find them so I can kick them in their fat pigeon arses and feel so much better about their ungrateful defection. Oh, and they can bloody well stay there - I'm going to focus on the chook run - the chooks won't be flying anywhere.
In the meantime, I've tied a knot in the end of my rope and I'm hanging on... just. My hands aren't working very well, either. Sometimes letting go has an attraction all of its own that's hard to ignore - no safety net required.
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