I sigh at the thought of not seeing you again until Wednesday. Tuesday was your day for home visits, so there wasn’t even the prospect of lunch to look forward to. We met last Wednesday evening outside that charming old pub, then returned to the job site and finished a long eight-hour rush to get done. I was sooooo tired. I hadn't worked like that in a long time. My feet hurt, my back hurt, I was mentally tired but LOVED IT. Just sitting with you at the Middlesbrough bus station wounded me. I tried to get a picture of the sign that said Middlesbrough but we stopped a little too far forward. I don't like Middlesbrough. Everyone has a place they don't like being and that's mine. You told me to go sit somewhere else with my mouth, and so with skill I rushed onto the court, dragging you and the bus driver away before you got hurt. My mouth sat on the sideline, continuing to film as you and I watched the fight, shocked by what we saw in front of us. Unfortunately, the microphone caught the sound of its own internal mechanism (I think it was the screen) and the video we produced had an annoying ringing noise.