I'll be honest, reader, In about 12 hours from writing this I'll be getting up to catch a flight - indeed, as you read it, I'll be in the air - and there is still so much to do that I kind of resent you making me type this right now. Last night I had to borrow a hoover from a neighbour I've never spoken to before, because we need to clean our flat before we leave this hell-country forever, but realised too late that we have now sent our own hoover via international shipping. What fresh hell. I will not have time for any games this weekend, nor, conceivably, the emotion of joy ever again. How dare you even make me consider what games I might have been playing instead?
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