It’s 8.45 on a Monday morning, and I’m in the car stopped at traffic lights. All around me people are on their way to work - walking, riding, driving. I notice a feeling creeping up on me, a sadness, like I’m missing something. The light turns green and I turn right, pulling into the carpark of the rehabilitation unit. I put my disability permit on the dashboard and get my walker from the back of the car. Slowly I make my way inside to reception. As I wait, my feeling of longing grows. Then it occurs to me: I miss Monday mornings and the start of the working week.
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