Life is wearing on me.

I’m moving out at the end of the week. Into a tiny room in a small basement. Just when you think you have got it figured out, and you can take a nap on your own couch in your own home in the middle of the day with no worries, along comes Life with a knife in his hands and he jams it into your brain and he gleefully shouts “Not today, fat boy!”. Funny thing is, I always knew this day was coming. Or rather, this series of days which will usher me into the next phase of an already unsettled life. 048

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