99% a waste of space. No idea why Covid-19 would want to inhabit them. Poor taste, I reckon. Find a new. more attractive and altogether nicer host you dozy virus!
I am conflicted. I have a powerful urge to spend a considerable amount of money on a luxury item and I have an equally powerful urge to not spend a considerable amount of money on a luxury item. Shhhh… it’s another motorbike. I know, I know… but I’m bored.
We are surrounded by blabbery.
Indigestion is the price of a moment’s pleasure. Real or metaphorical.
I have given up. Life is too much. It’s fine if you don’t try to do anything but the moment you have a bright idea, you’re doomed. Even the simplest task becomes a minefield of frustrations and impossibilities. Nothing works. No angles are cut cleanly, no computer programme works seamlessly (or at all), no measurements are accurate, no tools are sharp enough or work like they should. In short, the innate hostility of inanimate objects triumphs. I have given up and feel happier already for it.
The sound of young children playing and laughing and chattering and calling to each other brings me out in hives.
I’ve been hors de combat for a while. I’m back now.
I am self-insulating.
I would choose the white pill.
I’m really quite surprised at the pace of physical decline.