Confessions

I’ve never read one Harry Potter book. Not one. I’ve read the first paragraph of the first one about four times. The first page about twice.
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I have never read the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. I’ve read The Hobbit, but only about two years ago after a friend lent me a beautiful hard back edition that made me want to read it.
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Most days, I feel insanity is so close to the surface it seems I’ve pulled off the ultimate coup that no-one seems to notice just how close I am to being a complete, certifiable nutbag.
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I smacked Oscar tonight and had that overwhelming sensation of release as I did it. That is the main reason I – as a rule – do not, e.v.e.r., smack. Because the urge to not stop until my body is spent is horrifying, exhilerating, shaming and powerful.
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Today I wanted to shut the world out. To close the shutters on the world and watch as my world descended into a pitch-black darkness of nothing.
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The comprehension that tomorrow heralds another week of ‘doing it all over again’ is almost too overwhelming for me tonight. I am drawing a little solace that it is a four day week. Thank you Jesus for dying on the cross and in this case, for all the wrong reasons – just so I can have a break.
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I haven’t been to the gym since returning to work on 20 Feb. My body feels like a big bowl of jelly. On Friday I ate about two days of food by lunchtime. I fear it is the first chunk of the iceberg to fall into the ocean.
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I watched The Wedding Crashes yesterday and really really liked it. I’ve said it before, but Vince Vaughan (and Robbie Williams) are my kinda men. You know they’d smell, be absolute pigs, but when they’re buff. . . sigh.
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