I can’t face my novel. I can’t face the J2EE application management company I’m supposed to be writing up. I can’t face my weary babysitter or the sink full of unwashed dishes or the dishwasher full of washed dishes that still have bits of chicken on them. I am the shrivelled hulk of a human being.

All I want to do is check out pictures of Swedish warmblood stallions on the Internet.

It’s an addiction, I tell you.

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