I've spent the last two hours tidying up round the sawmill, and queuing up the next three logs to saw. It's been hard physical work and it feels as though nothing useful has been achieved; I feel exhausted, despondent and defeated.
I know fine well that this is not real, that the preparation is an essential part of the production, that this is just depression speaking... but the fact that I know this does not break through the bleak mood.
