I need my head read

Here I am writing a paper about work. Work as intimate knowing from the inside, bodily connection with an environment through every sense, being immersed in it. That’s all very fine — it’s a struggle to make it intelligible and I look out the window in desperation and see the callitris pine that has to be thinned, the saw needs sharpening, the bare ground between the rocks should have grass seed, come to mention it even the windows aren’t too clean blah blah. What am I doing?

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