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Tough going…

It’s been a tough week. My employee is ill and was unable to come and clean and change my linen.

It’s meant my bin in the kitchen was not emptied. Pots in my garden not put in place. My clothes not laundered.

I have socialised with friends, explored Holes Bay, and walked with a friend and her Ridgeback. He is gorgeous.

Tonight I made dinner for a friend who is staying the night. It feels odd to be a hostess again. He will help me make a butterfly 🦋 garden in the raised bed behind my garden wall. All it has are weeds.

My inhalers no longer work. It is a demarcation line.

On Monday I was interviewed about my resignation from SWAST. What a toxic woman. I cried. Who makes me cry? Only my daughter is close enough to cause me to have tears.

I am so tired. Very tired.

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 madswirl.com and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

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