A very strange feeling is coming over me. Sure I'm coming home knackered with my feet in a sling but somehow its not hurting as much. I knocked out about 6 rounds of delivering today pretty much without breaking into a sweat.
Still hundreds of leaflets in my car, however, with many, many more to follow so no complacency, just a sense of increased hardiness which comes from having a manic MP chasing me at every turn and, somewhat oddly, an increasing sense of enjoyment of the whole thing.
Mind you, tonight's chips were pretty poor - I couldn't get to my usual chip shop - and unbelievably expensive as they came from Woodstock, which is posher than the Queen.
Was that a digression? Is this?
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