Up, and at it

It's 5.30am.
And, today, I'm back to work.
I've enjoyed the two-week break. (It's a long time since I was able to take that amount of time off at Christmas.)
I've no emotion(s) save knowing that in 2.5 hours I'll be sat at my desk doing what I do.
Of course, to the mind, which only works in an oppositional way — i.e. good/bad — that's not much fun. But I've no intention of feeding it anything; but of course, there is no I or me to do anything — less still to will myself to think a particular way.
My night's sleep wasn't great — nature calls and all that, and we've now acquired a mouse 🐭 in the house who seems to have worked him/herself into the cavity or under the floor. We're going to get a trap but quite where (apart from the loft) we're going to put it, I don't know.
This week I'm hoping to get to the gym at least three times and hopefully my youngest daughter will be able to come along too. For some reason, she's decided that this year she wants to get fit and (yes, believe it or not) she wants to get "big arms". It's really nice to have a training partner; it means that I've got to do things properly and not push big weights which, at my age, does me no good.
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