Not in my wildest imagination would I ever have guessed that drinking less coffee for a few days trying to make the last jar last longer, then being deprived of coffee for three days until I could obtain groceries, would immediately result in my first insomniac phase of this last few weeks (while thoroughly physically exhausted and fairly incapable). Being ‘atypical’ / typically ME again…

drawing (mine) circa. 1995 – a page in my half-filled A6 sketchbook from art school days.
Not in my wildest imagination, back in 1995, would I ever have pictured my life as it is here and now, all these 23 years later! However, that is not the point of my making this post…
NB: potential trigger warning – if you are sensitive or in distress, you might not want to read some of my reflections and rants about the traumas of the world and persons. Nothing worse than you might see or hear in the news, perhaps – no image triggers but the text might remain highly-strung /over-wraught while i’m not well-practised editing my own writing yet and lacking somewhat in the field of objectivity, versus subjectivity that is. I have objects enough.