The grass needs cut and I’ve returned to work after a week off. I hate gardening and I especially hate working. So I apologise for the depression that is oozing from my pen. I have watched Bambi’s mother being shot fourteen times in a row to try to cheer me up. It just made me hungry. But that soon stopped when I remembered I was heading to work. It takes the notion of food away from me. It also takes away any thoughts on being sociable, helpful, understanding and committed. I don’t think I like working with the public.
Anyway, I thought about what to write. It came to a choice between this posting and a suicide note!
Continue reading “Literally Stories – Week 65 – Getting Nowhere”

