pimlico's Diaryland Diary

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end of a century

If I ever have a moment of clarity in the activity cyclone of tidying up the old flat and trying to work out how to fit all of my junk into the new place I end up telling myself that I'm doing quite well under the circumstances.

"Quite well" in the sense that I have not suddenly burst into tears since, ooh, Friday night. And "quite well" in the sense that I'm stopping myself from analysing things too much, for that way lies the route to madness, hair pulling and throwing old videotapes at the wall.

"Quite well" as in "not especially well at all".

What a fantastically pointless entry. V. poor. Must do better.

10:21 a.m. - 2007-09-02

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