I am spangled now. I was doing all right and then I went up to the cellar at half ten and found three beers that needed cleaning, a load of empties that needed taking out before the delivery in the morning, a lift with the previous morning’s delivery that hadn’t been unloaded, and more empties in the lift room downstairs. And I hadn’t brought up the Belgian crates from downstairs yet, like I’d promised. And then cleaning one of the lines I splashed line cleaner all up my new jumper, bleaching the colour out of the wool and ruining it. I’d so liked that jumper the only two times I’d worn it.
And now tomorrow I need to spend a couple of hours of my day off editing the photos to send them across, which isn’t ideal. But on the other hand I’m being paid for it, and I wanted to do it, and said I would, and I got some nice shots of the bar for their and our social media, and as much free food as I could eat, and a day away in Leeds.
OK, maybe it’s tough being grateful for spending a day in Leeds. But the rest of it is all good.
Going bed now. Just realised it’s Wednesday tomorrow and I haven’t watched a film to review yet or done any work for it or even found a film that is available somewhere to watch.
That’s fine. Not a problem. I got this. I always got this.
......
Peter Brady, by Screeching Weasel. Perfect pop punk: wry, wild, and raw. BOY, I've really learned a lot today. One: You act your age. Two: Don't try to be something you're not. Three: You find out in advance what restaurant your mom and dad are going to, and go someplace else!
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