A new experience: I spent the morning at a formal meeting with an organisation's trustees as the 'accompanying companion' for an ex-colleague against whom a grievance has been raised. That was a hand-aching amount of writing which I must make coherent before the context goes out of my head.

Our house looks completely appalling now, with the tools and accoutrements of so many part-done projects left ready to continue them whenever: on the hall floor, the contents of the cleared shower-room; on the kitchen bench, jars of paint that need resuscitating in order to touch up chipped and polyfilled walls; by the front door, stuff for Oxfam; in three rooms, half-packed boxes stacked on piles of empty ones. And dust everywhere. It all provides little incentive to spot and clear away the odd glass that should be washed up.

So I escaped to see Ken Loach's 'Sorry We Missed You'. Ken Loach is pitch perfect and the film is no escape from anything. Every politician and, more importantly, every voter should see it. 

On the way in, I saw this as an artwork. I think what is going on at home is affecting my perception. 

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