I reckon I can jot.
Jot jot jot.
Remember January 2019? It was work, drive, jot, sleep.
And so was January 2018.
And there’s just one more day of jotting. I need to rustle up a door… Can I though? Can I?
That cold came. It’s cold. It’s zero. The wind is bitey. There’s a delay at school tomorrow, which I fail to understand, as when they go, it will be a whopping one degree instead of negative three degrees… not sure it’s worth the fuss.
Fuss. That’s what I’ll do if I jot any further. I shall go lie down now.