Somehow Monday has come around again and I don’t really even remember there being a weekend where I got anything done. Needless to say though I have managed all weekend to wake up at ridiculous hours (for that read 4am) this morning I had to drag myself out of bed at 6 and all I wanted to do once I had done so was get right back under the covers all over again.
Work was the usual. It’s work, what more can you say about it? The journey home was the usual trial by fire (I have no idea how they manage to get away with charging SO much for no seats and crowded aisles but guess lack of alternatives make it possible) and then I got in, made dinner and ate. Right now it’s just gone 7, I have another headache caused by being tired and I want nothing more than for it to be 8pm so I can go to bed (that said I was in bed at 7.30 last night).
Here’s to another week; the weekend coming will be filled with public transport and catching up with old friends, so that just means the next four days will go as slowly as it is possible for them to do.
Saw a sticker the other day which about sums up the way that the week goes (though I am paraphrasing, it struck me as incredibly accurate): Go to work, look at the clock at 3.00, look at the clock 2 hours later it’s 3.01. On the weekend start reading a book at 3, look at the clock 1 minute later it’s 5.30