Journal

Thursday, 4 September 2025

Thursday, 4 September 2025

Between booking my MRI, being ambushed by a rain spider, and collapsing in the middle of a Roadworthy test, my body and brain have been through the wringer. But somewhere between panic and flare-ups, I’ve also found a strange new joy in embroidery (sorry, loved ones, you’re all getting lopsided stitched gifts from now on).

Messy doesn’t mean broken. It means human.

The Quiet Feels Different Without Bugs

My dog, Bugsy, is at my mum’s this weekend. He’s being absolutely spoiled, no doubt about that. She’s probably made him scrambled eggs and is reading him bedtime stories while feeding him snacks off a Royal Doulton plate. He’s living the high life. I know he’s happy. I know she adores having him. And he loves her too.

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