A day of frustration…

Some of you know that my laptop was badly damaged 18 months ago, and I’ve been using my phone mostly. Well, I couldn’t hack its anymore so my daughter gave me hers. This is very generous of her.

However, I have been trying to log in to the sites I use a lot and some of them have locked me out. Oh well, tomorrow is another day. I have achieved quite a bit.

I didn’t sleep at all last night so fell asleep at around 9am for a couple of hours. I am tired and somewhat tense – symptoms, not mood.

I already have lockdown hair. Nothing I can do about that. I do have some product to stop it being too unruly.

At about 2am, a taxi was in the road for my neighbours. I have noticed this before, and when I saw them I said I hoped no one had been taken ill. They assured me everyone was fine. It goes on. My curiosity is piqued.

It is still bitterly cold. I don’t like it. I can’t wait for some sunshine. I haven’t been writing as I ought, so must try to do better. The theme at one my poetry zoom meetings is, of course, love. I need to write some.

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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