I have spent most of today trying to sleep and chewing painkillers, interspersed with bouts of excitement at the Mavs whooping the Heat later and laughing with Tina at Rebecca’s hungover attempts at coherent speech (none of which were very successful).
I feel I should have done something slightly more productive. But now it’s 8pm and all I want to do is sit down and drink gallons of tea. Tomorrow’s monday anyway, I’ll be guilted by the start of another week into a swirling vortex of productiveness.
Or as is more likely, I will be waiting impatiently for the postman, only to get rubbish post which will put me in a mood that makes me grump the whole morning and glare at things. Then I’ll have lunch and panic about stuff I’ve not done yet, do it all in a massive stressed hurry and then forget something really important and spend most of the evening in another grump until Glee comes on.
I can’t wait.
