Apart from that dream where I was standing in Dad's study for two hours packing his substantial vinyl record collection into boxes, and the forty minute hallucination when I was emptying his desk and dragging it out the front door for the eBay purchaser to collect, I've spent the whole day today on my bed with my eyes closed, having not recognised my migraine in time to take the magic tablet.
So my planned day of quiet productivity while the carpets at the House at Porter Street were steam cleaned ended up as something of a bust.
Five more sleeps.
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