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I’m back at work. This is both a good and a bad thing. Good, because it’s part of the routine, that comforting feeling that things are normal, and where they’re supposed to be. Bad, today, because I slept very poorly last night, and am feeling not quite right, my head is woozying all over the place and it’s quite hard to concentrate.

Last night I cleared my desk. It is now a clean and shiny place, still with piles of books and papers, but neatly ordered, and efficient-looking. It feels a bit back-to-school to be honest, but that’s only a feeble coincidence. I couldn’t bear to clear it while the First Draft was under construction, so it became more and more cluttered – although I did believe that I knew where everything was. A hollow and foolish belief as it turned out, because I found, under a pile of stuff (no other word will really describe it), the picture I’d bought for my mother’s Christmas present last year. I did buy another of the same for her birthday, but still, I feel a bit silly.

So, the decks have been cleared, so to speak. The evenings are drawing in, and Autumn is waiting for the Indian Summer to do its thing and dance off stage. Time to begin again.

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