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I didn’t sleep till 3am. About. Why is it, I can fall asleep in the car in startling sunlight, but squirm in my too-hot bed in a wretched state past the witching hour? Counting cats, fussing my cat, doing a crossword, sitting up, laying down. Staring at my eyelids. Any ideas, my friends how to slay the Insomnimonster?

I did think, hey, I’ll start doing some little blogs. Stop all this fretting for the Big Idea. This is the big idea.

I’m in a state of flux. Oh lots going on, such as working for the marvellous Mslexia people with a blog, and around the near corner there is more. Meanwhile…

Look, I’m not apologising. I hate a government that pushes profit above people and makes poverty a crime. I’ve read history, I know the Victorians.

We’re reliving that era now. Is anyone looking into the even darker recesses of  Tory plans? Have any property barrens done deals with them Bullingdon Boys to build (cheap crap) places where the very poor can be parked yet? A working rehabilitation centre? Ahem. A Big Society All In It Together Work Hub? Drop-in Back To Work “Counsellors” on hand, all trained online by a Maximarse type programme, naturally, to incentivise you away from being damnable lazy plebs.

As for us Cripples of all types, I can see it now. Vast rebranded warehouses with us all in little truckle beds, cheap po-pots underneath, emptied by those press-ganged from the Job Employment Reassignment Korp…

Oh dear. More for another day. It’s still good to be alive. Honestly.