I should be in bed, dear reader.
I’ve had two nights of appalling sleep. One because my husband will insist on getting up at three in the morning on a Monday to leave me for his other wife who lives in Berlin – or work, as he calls it, and one because I needed to spend half the night crouched on the lavatory trying to put a positive spin on things by attempting to read my book in between wrenching stomach pains and thinking ‘Well, at least I’m awake enough to finish this chapter.’
Bastards. All of them.
To whom I am referring I do not really know. I am just in a shaking my fist at the world kind of mood.
And why am I not asleep now?
Well, that is my own fault.
Andrea came over earlier to borrow my Sat Nav, and instead of drinking chamomile tea and sniffing Horlicks, even though we were both absolutely battered, we drank an entire cafetiere of espresso strength coffee between us, and washed it down with many fine biscuits.
Now I am feeling a bit mental. Too mental to read.
Who could have predicted that?
I don’t really have anything to say. Which is pretty normal actually for this blog I suppose. It’s just something to do with my hands until my brain gets tired enough to stop shouting at me: ‘GO TO SLEEP…NO…STAY AWAKE…STAY ASLEEP…NO…GO AWAKE…WHAT? WHAT? EH? ARGH!’
This will be shortly before I explode.
I was going to put some stuff on EBay this evening. I like to keep my hand in. I failed singularly and now I am too tired, and know that if I did list anything it would be a miracle if anyone would buy anything, seeing as how the items would finish at roughly midnight, and who the hell stays up to bid on stuff that late? And what I would list would mostly be unsearchable because I would start to randomly drivel on about stuff that has no earthly thing to do with what I am trying to sell.
Apart from that, it was a splendid plan.
I shall bugger off and pin stuff on Pinterest until I go cross eyed and dribble into the keyboard.