Sitting in my office, eyes swollen, looking br as if I had been in a bar fight last night br br June is going to kill me, she needs production br numbers which I can’t supply due to mental br br malfunction, the committee will hang me; they br blithely want to forge ahead with a new date br br without consulting the venue repeating the br same debacle - I’m not willing to go along br br the Nile-Crocodile has been reduced to a teeth- br gnashing reptile by last night’s eating wrong meat br br marinated in their own basting; iron bar pressures br mounting in the head, without psychological fears br br I would have stayed in bed; but I always keep going – br food intolerance is a life-long companion br br although it changes me into a Conspiracy-Fearing br Moron with Persecution Mania – at least br br knowing the causes helps me to laugh at all my br anxieties and fears – afterwards br br right now sitting in crocodilian silence hating br the world - while plotting to hang myself…br br Margaret Alicebr br