And already it gets worse.
Following the visit from my sister, I actually managed to straighten out some thoughts out and start writing (not into the main document - I've had to start a new one because I couldn't fit what I need to write into the main set of notes).
Just now, I've had my mother knocking on my bloody door, asking if I "want to open some more presents".
For fuck's sake... a bit of peace and quiet is all I fucking need to finally get some fucking writing done. I don't give a flying fuck about presents until I've got this shit done.
I'd quite like to get it right.
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