So, it has been another weekend, not that I really noticed. I got the good/bad news that overtime was on this weekend afterall, so my break turned into 4 days rather than 7. Work itself wasn't too bad, Saturday or Sunday, other than the fact that I have develped a really annoying habbit of waking anytime between midnight and 1am, and being unable to drift back to nod. Dang it.
Thankfully, and on the bright side, it is Bank Holiday Monday so on a day when I would ordinarily have been in work, I am in fact, off.
I slept late, after recieving your text yesterday, I'm not going to phone. You sound so poorly with the chest infection, I'd rather you rested and or slept and we can catch up when you are well. Desperatly wish I was nearer to take care of you. I do know that you're being well taken care of but I would feel better if I could be nearer, even if it was to sit while you slept. I know... that sounds slightly creepy, but you know what I mean. I'd be there if you woke and needed anything... nevermind.
So today is Monday. It is Bank Holiday. The rest of the world seems to be hibernating. The weather is miserable, the roads are deserted as are the supermarkets. I try to have coffee, no point in writing, there is an Irish coningeant of young lads in Starbucks, less than 10 minutes after I arrive. They may be a rugby team, I don't know. Anyway, they are young, have accents to die for and are exuberant and loud, and while I could listen to them all day, it's not conjucive to either read or write, and so I hurry my coffee and leave after just 30 minutes. I hope they had a great time though.
I had a little look around some shops then headed straight for fuel and home.
I have done a little of everthing that needed doing, washing, ironing, tidying, hoovering, I'm exhausted, could have stayed in bed the whole day but I've only dilly dallyed for 5 weeks while I have been doing overtime, so, needs must.
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