Not the thirteenth

I must remember that I don't do well with curry.

Exceptionally, it seems, for an Englishman, I am not a great fan of the stuff. When a curry threatens I generally default to a chicken korma, which I believe is Persian anyway. A garlic Nan goes down well, as do onion Bahajias (or however you spell them), but that's pretty much as far as it goes.

Last night was games night, and we tend to to curry one week, chinese the next. Last night was curry night. I spent much of the early hours of this morning getting up regularly to munch on indigestion remedies. This has happened before after having something from that particular takeaway. I should learn from this. Anyway, the upshot is that this morning, I am dog-tired and my digestion is all screwed over. I feel queasy, but not food poisoned (otherwise I should be too miserable to write this) and definitely below par.

Friday is supposed to be an unlucky day. Touch wood, I am not as superstitious as some, but I am feeling a little aggrieved at the moment. Not only am I having what can best be described as gibletary concerns, but I cannot find my flash memory stick. I had it yesterday, but it's gone now. I hope that I put it down at home somewhere, as it's not in the office, nor is it in its usual place near the PC in The Tower.

In the great scheme of things it is no great problem, but it is annoying and inconvenient. Apart from a number of NWO documents, including two part written character sheets, my entire back up personality and personal reboot was zipped onto the damned thing.

If my brain blue screens today, I am up a gum bush.

Not the thirteenth

I must remember that I don't do well with curry.

Exceptionally, it seems, for an Englishman, I am not a great fan of the stuff. When a curry threatens I generally default to a chicken korma, which I believe is Persian anyway. A garlic Nan goes down well, as do onion Bahajias (or however you spell them), but that's pretty much as far as it goes.

Last night was games night, and we tend to to curry one week, chinese the next. Last night was curry night. I spent much of the early hours of this morning getting up regularly to munch on indigestion remedies. This has happened before after having something from that particular takeaway. I should learn from this. Anyway, the upshot is that this morning, I am dog-tired and my digestion is all screwed over. I feel queasy, but not food poisoned (otherwise I should be too miserable to write this) and definitely below par.

Friday is supposed to be an unlucky day. Touch wood, I am not as superstitious as some, but I am feeling a little aggrieved at the moment. Not only am I having what can best be described as gibletary concerns, but I cannot find my flash memory stick. I had it yesterday, but it's gone now. I hope that I put it down at home somewhere, as it's not in the office, nor is it in its usual place near the PC in The Tower.

In the great scheme of things it is no great problem, but it is annoying and inconvenient. Apart from a number of NWO documents, including two part written character sheets, my entire back up personality and personal reboot was zipped onto the damned thing.

If my brain blue screens today, I am up a gum bush.