Grumpy Monday Morning

I feel rather squiffy this morning. Out boozing last night with DT and Miss Clark, both sans LJ, and although it didn't seem like it until I got home, I think the last pint of Young's might have been a mistake. I didn't feel drunk or anything, but the old stomach was rebelling, and this morning it still feels a bit bleh. As you can imagine my sleep was somewhat disturbed last night.

Two cups of coffee and a Sainsbury's New York Deli sarnie have signally failed to work their magic.

And of course, it's Monday morning, and hot, too.

So, in the office, Monday morning, hot and bothered and feeling a bit bleuch.

Sense of humour why hast thou forsaken me? And more to the point, why won't the antacids settle the old stomach?

Grump, grump, grump.

Grumpy Monday Morning

I feel rather squiffy this morning. Out boozing last night with DT and Miss Clark, both sans LJ, and although it didn't seem like it until I got home, I think the last pint of Young's might have been a mistake. I didn't feel drunk or anything, but the old stomach was rebelling, and this morning it still feels a bit bleh. As you can imagine my sleep was somewhat disturbed last night.

Two cups of coffee and a Sainsbury's New York Deli sarnie have signally failed to work their magic.

And of course, it's Monday morning, and hot, too.

So, in the office, Monday morning, hot and bothered and feeling a bit bleuch.

Sense of humour why hast thou forsaken me? And more to the point, why won't the antacids settle the old stomach?

Grump, grump, grump.

The heat, the flies...

Arsebeagles

We have just had a power blippage. In the nano-second between the 50p running out in the electricity meter, and the hamster-powered back up kicking in, I lost an entire hour-and-a-half's worth of character sheet I was surreptitiously working on.

Now we've had a surly announcement over the tannoy about the building experiencing power surges, and the air conditioning has died, so we're sitting here in a hot, clammy environment.

Today just keeps on giving.

The heat, the flies...

Arsebeagles

We have just had a power blippage. In the nano-second between the 50p running out in the electricity meter, and the hamster-powered back up kicking in, I lost an entire hour-and-a-half's worth of character sheet I was surreptitiously working on.

Now we've had a surly announcement over the tannoy about the building experiencing power surges, and the air conditioning has died, so we're sitting here in a hot, clammy environment.

Today just keeps on giving.

Hot Town, Summer in the City...

God, it's still only 7 June and at 23.34 as I type, it's so damned hot. Summer doesn't officially start until the solstice, you know...

Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty
Been down, isn't it a pity
Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city

I really am too hot to do any more. I've been resurrecting the lost character sheet, and quite enjoying it. Nearly three full pages in and no sign as yet, of a cut and paste session, though that will doubtlessly come later on in the writing. But I'm stopping now. It will have to wait until tomorrow, I just can't concentrate - it's time for a cup of something without caffeine in it, and a cool shower. A tepid shower, in fact (I would go for cold, but I don't think my heart could take the sudden temperature change...). The hope for the shower is provided, of course, that the Polish Brigade TM aren't hogging the bathroom as is their wont.

You'd think it would be fun living in a house with a random assortment of girls in their twenties, wouldn't you? Well it's not. Loud and prolonged giggle fits, atrocious music and thunderous feet up and down the stairs like heavy weight mice on speed.

At least they aren't playing Abba's Greatest Hits again tonight.

I just read that back. I'm getting old. I can imagine me dad saying the same thing twenty-five years ago.

Stroll on...

A nice shiny Stalin Award to anyone who can identify this quote without googling it:

What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance!

( Sod it, the answer is here: )

Hot Town, Summer in the City...

God, it's still only 7 June and at 23.34 as I type, it's so damned hot. Summer doesn't officially start until the solstice, you know...

Hot town, summer in the city
Back of my neck getting dirty and gritty
Been down, isn't it a pity
Doesn't seem to be a shadow in the city

I really am too hot to do any more. I've been resurrecting the lost character sheet, and quite enjoying it. Nearly three full pages in and no sign as yet, of a cut and paste session, though that will doubtlessly come later on in the writing. But I'm stopping now. It will have to wait until tomorrow, I just can't concentrate - it's time for a cup of something without caffeine in it, and a cool shower. A tepid shower, in fact (I would go for cold, but I don't think my heart could take the sudden temperature change...). The hope for the shower is provided, of course, that the Polish Brigade TM aren't hogging the bathroom as is their wont.

You'd think it would be fun living in a house with a random assortment of girls in their twenties, wouldn't you? Well it's not. Loud and prolonged giggle fits, atrocious music and thunderous feet up and down the stairs like heavy weight mice on speed.

At least they aren't playing Abba's Greatest Hits again tonight.

I just read that back. I'm getting old. I can imagine me dad saying the same thing twenty-five years ago.

Stroll on...

A nice shiny Stalin Award to anyone who can identify this quote without googling it:

What dreadful hot weather we have! It keeps me in a continual state of inelegance!

( Sod it, the answer is here: )