Where the pen lives

Late, and writing anyway.

Anchored injection day to my shift pattern rather than to the calendar, which solved a problem I had been feeling guilty about for four months.

Batch cooked on a good day for the bad days. Six labelled boxes in the freezer and a great deal of smugness.

Small logistics win: worked out where the pen actually lives in a fridge shared with four other people and a toddler's yoghurts.

Aye.