Questions questions…

Will I have this feeling like I’m a dopy carpenters mate (ht to Nigel Pollock for the classic illustration) for the rest of my life? Getting things wrong, stuffing up, missing opportunties, asking dumb questions, looking in one place when the action is happening somewhere else, feeling like the thing I got right was a massive fluke? And will the carpenter ever get fed up of my randomness? I think I know the answer to the last question…

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