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My head is trying to convince my body that I've joined the day shift. My body is firmly of the opinion it is doing night shift overtime.
I spent over an hour washing up this morning (I cracked first after 3 days of us ignoring it). I spent much of that time thinking about supper/breakfast and what to have.
Just as I was finishing up and rinsing down the washing-up bowl, a dog walker stopped outside the window to let his ponyesque hound dump a whopping great chocolate cake on the pavement outside. Icing and everything. Steam too.
He furtively looked round and realised he would get away with it. Then saw me - spoiled his morning, that did.
Funnily enough, I haven't had breakfast yet - the Coco Pops lost their appeal.
Drivelling in TPD is not a mental health issue. We're just community blogging, that's all.
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