heavenly
I'm all out of sorts. All can be cured by spending just one day unearthing second hand treasure with ice-cream in hand. Op-shop crawl, you might call it. It's the season of goose pimples and i'm sure there are a few inexpensive, snug, reasonably tasteful coats hanging around waiting to sit in my spider infested wardrobe.
Three yawns and a couple of eye scratches says I should be sleeping.
Tomorrow should be (better fucking be) fairly well co-ordinated and less tedious. Although I have a feeling that i'll be arguing that sentence.
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