I’m sorry and there is nothing to romanticise about disappearing in your own home. I'm sorry for complaining about my first world life and problems. I'm also sorry if I switched off on you. I sincerely hope you are holding up okay
Where has the time gone, my friends? I last wrote on the 28th of June and now we are in August. I'll try to make this regular, but no promises. Life is just too crazy. But hey, if there is any consolation, I've been writing more? And drinking even more.
I had big plans for 2020. It was going to be my year. Before the year started I had already claimed ownership of it for a multitude of reasons and I was excited about what was to come. There was this wild sense of accomplishment even before the year started. Is that where we went wrong?