The thing is, I don't feel like writing much because I am a bit stressed. I feel like writing when I am unhappy, angry, cheerful, and excited. But not stressed.
I don't much feel like reading either.
Thank goodness for Andrew Davies's Little Dorrit. Did anyone understand the ending?
I was a bit confused by random orphans, diverse wills and marriage between two characters who I thought might have accidentally been related to each other. The bit about the house falling down was damn fine though.