He doesn’t seem to think that wood paint fumes are toxic and yet when we put the bar fire on or light the gas I get a strong sense that it is all going to go up into a huge conflagration. Oh, it isn’t for long, is it? And it will be worth it, won’t it? It’s just the chaos of it. I’m not good with it. And we’re only two days in. And my poor little lovely studio is a mass of books and bits. It muddles my thinking. And now there is the suggestion that I ought to resubmit. Ah, should I? It is so much work and I’m no longer sure it is what I want. If you don’t know what to do, do nothing. Who said that? I can’t remember. Is it good advice? All I can think of doing for the moment is trying to impose some order and cleanliness. I took it out on the doctor yesterday. Though he said I was fine. The ultrasound was inconclusive. More research is needed. He talks of a cyst. Is that was it is really?
