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Nothing to be sorry about!
I absolutely love having fuckall to do. I cook, scavenge logs for firewood, play biketag (if I can work out wtf is going on), mend things I've been putting off since last February, and have strange dreams about random work-stress wierdness.
And then some crazy work turns up and wish I'd done my accounts when things were quiet.
You don't even need a commute the moment.
Sorry.