pants
Who've thought that skinning chicken quarters could be therapeutic?
Yet another night of restlessness. I think this could be the start of another regular-ish period of insomnia; it seems to come ever three months or so. Really pleasing considering I'd be getting up early; eight am is early for me. I'm not big on mornings, they bring daylight and hang-overs. Removing yourself from an almost comfortable spot to spend possibly hours waiting for a delivery isn't what I'd call enjoyable. Even if it means there'll be a new bit of kit to faff about with.
In the middle of Nigella Bites (UKTV Food), the phone rings. A very distant voice confirms that I am the person they wish to speak to and proceeds to inform me the following, more or less: Their computer's were 'down' yesterday, thus no deliveries were processed to be set out today. They'll try to get the order sorted night for delivery tomorrow.
Fan-bloody-tastic.
Least I got a phone call I suppose. Tomorrow heralds another dress fitting, @2.30pm. My parents won't in the house at the same time either. Who'd like to wager that the time the house is bereft of occupants, the courier will show to pound/tap on the front door?
The wireless mouse still isn't working either.
Shame I can't polish off the bottle of vodka that's lurking in my room tonight.
