I feel strangely...useless. Now I have an offer pending for a job my constructiveness seems to have gone down the pan. Probably because this whole thing has made me complacent, which is worrying.
Regardless, I've spent a fair amount of time over the last couple of days writing. Nothing public, correspondence to a friend overseas whom I'm trying to keep in contact with; but even this activity has felt the gnawing tug of procrastination upon it. I think some more sleep might help...
Well, nephew of mine, did you get the job? And what does "working upstairs" entail?
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