One for the road.
I have been spending an awful lot of time in front of this screen. It’s become a go-to action for when I wake up. It gives me a reason and an excuse. It’s part of my recovery. It could also be part of my self-deception.
Of all the things to say to yourself when you wake up on Monday morning (things like, “Oh,no” or “Shit” or “Why do I continue to do this nonsense?”), the words, “I think I will go to Wales,” do not normally spring into the mind of a reasonable person who is in possession of a small fortune of shiny, multi-coloured marbles. On Monday of this week, those very words leapt from my mouth like insanely caught sprats onto the deck of a boat bound for market.
My wife looked at me through the steam rising from our mugs of morning tea and…
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