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She was an ordinary woman like any other you might happen to see at the school gates, not unattractive but no looker, a little plump, tired tired eyes looking out on the world, always playing catch up with the mess left by the children and sometimes the husband, spending her life going around in circles in her own domestic hell.

Like so many other women she didn’t know where to start or where it ended, it was all a muddle. What is it? I hear you ask, well that was part of the problem. It was her life, a muddled confusion. Sometimes she would have given anything to stop the world and put it on pause. After a strong cup of coffee she would get on, moving quietly around the frozen world until she felt in control once more and then after sleeping for a week, she’d let the world start again.

What she really needed was somewhere to make sense of life, the bizarre little happenings that puzzled her, stuff that threw her and got her thinking. Somewhere where the world did not know they were her thoughts…

She had tried writing a diary; there is nothing in the world that shouts out ‘read me’ more than a diary! And whilst she thought that having someone read her issues was not actually that bad, there were certain people that would be best off not knowing they were her thoughts…

She had a couple of blogs but try as she might they did not fit the criteria, always slipping into a genre she was unsure she felt comfortable in and with her need to unburden herself as soon as they were found by someone she knew… Bingo. She found she was unable to off load; but she had to acknowledge she enjoyed the medium, writing a blog was fun.

So, using an old template, deleting all previous posts which were mainly nonsensical, she decided to start again, quietly, without a fuss, trying to make some sense of her mildly confusing life…

Although, in reality, she knew she was actually very dull and uninteresting.

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