I ' m working through something I ca n't name as yet . The something is me and my terror of abandonment and insecurity and old rage and mother - loss and exile and dread of the unknown . During the day I am generally fine .

A: What happens when the night comes along ?

Last night I almost finished the pattern for the bodice . ( After at least 4 attempts including cutting and sewing and fitting and redoing ) . With all the changes I made it barely resembles the original pattern . It 's almost like I ' m making the pattern from scratch .

A: How did I almost finish the pattern for the bodice ?

Way back on May 24 , we were moving the last of our stuff out of our townhouse . Mostly the stuff off the patio . Chairs , terracotta pots , plants , rocks , rock and more rocks .

A: Why were we moving stuff out of our townhouse ?

Oh Dear God , the place has gone down the tubes and the shops were filled to the brim with tat ! We left without buying a single thing . Most upsetting of all was Marks and Spencers .

A:
What does the narrator think of the place ?