The enemy’s plan was a physical nightmare. We are slogging through its shadow as it is halted and hijacked. That is still a psychological nightmare. There are no real breaks, just shifts in venue. A war for the mind goes with you, riding in your own head.

The Devil not only wears you down, but also sells you the poison pick me up. Bit of a shame that the worldly temptations to divert you are so tempting! There are days when Mr Fookitall comes to visit. Thankfully tends to be a short stay visitor.