two days of confusion (sunday was particularly difficult): and the letter to father prior sits here unfinished, raising duststorms. yesterday I wasnt going to try to finish it, this morning I thought I might, tonight I really want to - regardless of outcome . . . . . tomorrow?
a day of CV's and letters - a sense of not knowing who on earth I am, or want I really want to end up doing: although I do know, but believe it not to be possible . . . . .
let it be possible: there is no going back.