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Monday, February 21, 2005

Precarious

I feel "precarious". The slightest thing could set me off. Leave me alone with my thoughts and I will cry. Like I did at lunchtime as I drove into town.

I can't seem to work out exactly what it is that's bothering me, apart from the broad category of "work".

What has happened to me? Why can't I just get on with it, like so many millions of people do? Why can't I just *do* it?



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