Z plans spring cleaning

I’ve written a room-by-room list. Eh. Yuck. But it needs to be done. I have to pull myself together. I also have to fit in what I’m bringing back of Tim’s stuff, in a house that already accommodates more than its size warrants.

It’s only just after 8.30 and the sun is still shining, but I want to go to bed. I feel drained. But that’s no good, so I’ll read for an hour or two. I managed to mislay the paperback I’m reading, so had to take a hardback to bed last night, which weighed rather on my nose when I woke up at 3 o’clock. I’ve found it now, though, right by the computer, hem hem.

People still come to me for help and advice and tell me how strong I am, when I so am bloody not. Really, I have to be so careful with myself to manage to cope at all, but either I’m a total recluse or else I’m leant on. There’s nothing in between.

I seem to have said more than I meant to. Let it stand.

Which reminds me of when my mother had a stent fitted and none of us had heard of the word before and I mentioned that I remembered it because it was the third person plural of the subjunctive: “let them stand.” And she gave me a bollocking because I was pretentious. But that was genuinely how I remembered it. I need word and number associations to remember stuff and it has to be complicated, or else I don’t. Like, she remembered local phone numbers because of their pattern and that bemused me, I remembered one because it was a backward upright 7 and another because it was a backward sloping 7, but no other number by its shape. I knew one because it was 2×19 followed by 19, though. But I was told I was being obscure and pretentious then too. I don’t think my mother actually liked me. And stet again.

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