For example, here is my house one sunny day last year. I must have been out, no car.
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I know for a fact I was definitely out on a street one day, with someone, when the car came by. I just can't for the life of me remember where I was, or who I was with. I have a feeling it was somewhere residential, and that I was stopped for some reason. Tying a shoelace? Possibly. Maybe someday I'll stumble across myself on the Newtowards Rd or something. More than likely, I won't.
Other things of note:
- I have come to accept that I will probably not see my house clean and tidy again before I leave, because I am certainly not going to fucking do it ALL again, alone, when very little of it is my muck. This gives me a heavy, sad sort of feeling in my belly. I hate my house dirty.

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