Richard Pierce

Richard Pierce – author, poet, painter


Day 223

The price for having a normal day yesterday was obviously having a dreadful day today. I woke up feeling fine (I even allowed myself a lie-in as M is still on hols, and my commute isn’t really very far – 10 metres; all after waking at 05:30 and feeling wide awake). Within an hour of getting u, my body just basically rejected everything, including, it feels like, my soul. I have dragged myself through the day, and even passed the Greek possessives test I’d failed three times before.

So I’m late writing this, and have nothing particularly in my head that I want to write about.

Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day. It has to be. I’ve got radio to do, and a whole load of other stuff. I hate feeling weak and feeble.

Onwards and upwards. At least my brain is still (partially) alive.




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