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Late afternoon, Olivier, Max's trainer, called round to drop off a t-shirt that we had ordered (and forgotten about) with Max's picture emblazoned on the front. Talking about Max, he continues to let himself out of the house by opening closed doors. I still find this weird.
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Given that we had quite a large lunch and that I'm back to the nutritionist on Monday, Jan prepared a ham sandwich and fruit for dinner. We probably qualify for the fast track to sainthood. If only I believed!
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