Sabotaged. It never ceases to amaze me the number of ways my own body finds to betray me. Noisy bodily functions during important meetings. Lack of energy during grueling tasks. The (very) occassional failure to perform to the usual standards in bed. And now, here I am, on the first night an age that I really needed some decent kip because I've got a 4.30am start, and after 2 hours lying in bed I'm no closer to the soothing bosom of unconsciousness than I was at lunchtime.
Instead I've spent 2 hours tossing and turning whilst my brain churns over the 1000 and 1 things that I am supposed to be doing over the next few weeks. So I decided. I've made myself a nice hot milky drink and I'm going to list some of the things I need to do. That way I can stop thinking about them.
- Check disco for RSC on 1 November.
- Chase motorbike insurance claim.
- Follow up disco kit insurance claim.
- Speak to therapist about possibly restarting treatment.
See! Now that I'm up and about, I can't even remember half the stuff that was bugging me when I was in bed. Chuffing arseburgers!
- Re-issue contract for 22 December.
- Cancel doctors appointment?
- Email redundancy counsellor
- Rewire lights on trailer.
- Sort out perspex for light screens.
- Issue invoice to NSK (bastards!)
- Put Man Utd football for sale on Ebay.
- See if I can become the No 1 site on Google for my favourite phrase of the month: Arseburgers!
- Finish the CSS for the new layout.
Is there enough there? Nope! I'm sure there was more than that bugging me about 10 minutes ago. Oh well. I have to get up in 3 1/2 hours to go do this crappy job which I know I'm gonna hate. So I suppose I really ought to go back to bed and try to sleep. Oh yeah, whilst I remember:
arseburgers!
that's a nice rock!
me:
sex:male
age:30
status:married
children:3
Listening:
Barry Diston:Unreleased Stuff
Reading:
Weblogs
Terry Pratchett
Maps
Watching:
Bugger all at the mo, to be honest
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