I'm in a Cheetos coma. The couch has actually moulded to the shape of my body. All my good intentions have just vanished, along with my will to live. TV has been awful but somehow I just can't turn it off. It's the last night of Top of the Pops tonight. Pretty awful viewing for a final show. Shakira as the last ever TOTP number one was tragic. Her voice hurts my head.
I did manage to clear out my shed, thanks to Richard coming round to help. All the old rolls of spidery carpets have gone to the skip. And we had a pub lunch, so I guess I've done more with my day than I thought. It's just these last 5 hours that have been worthless and couch bound. God, I need some exercise. I'm debating a walk, but there isn't really anywhere 'nice' or safe to walk around here.
No work tomorrow is good.
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1 comment:
I like Shakira
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