I’m hesitant to write that I’ve been having trouble getting going. I’m not sure if it reflects badly or not? I have excuses: a pretty major one if I’m honest but all around us are help plans, self-help books and twittering stuff on all sorts of platforms.

None of it matters to me (gasp!) as I can’t find my USP to sell myself or my story to you or anyone else in the multiverse.

So if I told that to a medic what would they say? 1) it’s understandable 2) you’re on a new DMD (is it that?) 3) the world is full of people with/making malign things happen/there is madness in abundance!

Shake it off and take an antidepressant. Nope.

Sign up for some counselling. (I was recommended that six months from May: you might need it for bereavement purposes!)

Pour yourself regular cups of tea. If only? My bladder can’t cope as it is!

Get out into the garden…

Why didn’t I think of that? Because the garden’s all crispy. The gardening press is full of suggestions for the benefits but the task feels too big, and unpleasant when it’s hot n’ sweaty.

Maybe a skip run? Too hot for hefting the heavy stuff.

I did finish(?) the painting. Well almost. Well done me! Tidying the paint stuff away? Maybe I could paint a bit more… ?!?

I’ve half packed a holiday bag but it’s too early. See? Stop, start times.