The fat man is still in Amehricuh.
So. No work today, as I'm waiting for some glass to arrive and cannot cut my spinal cord sections without it.
Instead 'worked from home', ahem.
Have yet to do the working part of that, but it's sure to happen within the next few hours or so.
Spent last weekend in the lake district with Onag, and family. Did walks n shit.
Was so lovely. Surprised I didn't double in weight thanks to Eilish and her perpetual need to feed me.
Didn't make it into work on Monday due to staying up all night on Sunday with the Assembly street team. But went in very early on Tuesday to atone. Ended up finishing all my work within a few hours so spent the afternoon drinking in the meadows with Sags and Gav, then went out with Oli and friends for a wee bit.
Felt SO DAMN SLEEPY I HATED MYSELF. Went home before midnight. Don't even understand. Work has made me a sad old housewife.
Spent HOURS tidying today. The flat is stunning, like best it's ever looked.
And then as soon as I finished I baked a huge lasagne.
All I want to do is cook and tidy. And drink. I've been on the rum for a few hours.
Booked a birthday holiday to Amsterdam.
Because, holyshitballs - it's my birthday on Friday.
Next week I shall be speaking to you from within my second decade on this planet.
I can tell you're as excited as I am.
Currently listening to the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.
It's Cath's fault, I swear.
I need more rum.
*
* my birthday.
