Absence I haven't posted for a few days and it seems wrong -- like a performer not returning from the interval of a show, or reading a book and finding that back is filled with a hundred empty pages. I suppose I'm trying to limit my workload. For a time I was posting each night and the routine was become unbearable -- home from work, eat dinner, watch something on tv for an hour, write the weblog go to bed. I realised I could post more in one day in two or three because I wouldn't be jaded and my work and words would be better (although apparently my sentence structure goes to pot the later I write, and looking back at some previous entries I can see Anna's point). So here we are now. Although you haven't missed much -- just the minutia of life we all experience. And the usual paranoia about the state of the world.

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