It's Friday, and as luck would have it I've just discovered that the micro-brewery that lives around the corner from home has opened a bar on its premises. Mrs O and I are going to scud round this evening and bury a few. The trouble is I'm absolutely shattered after 4-days paper-shuffling and general office-twattery.
This evening could go one of two ways then: either my head will be lolling around like a bladder on a stick as soon as I get a sniff of the barmaid's apron, or I'll spring into life the moment I lay eyes on a brown bottle. Let's hope it's the latter. There's nothing more frustrating that a thirsty brain and floppy chassis.
In other news, today is yet another disappointment meteorological-speaking. All week the weathermen and women have been rattling on about how warm it is in the south east (of England). Trouble is, it isn't. I don't doubt they've got some scientific explanation for why it is actually warm and only appears to be freezing, but frankly they can talk to the hand. Chilly is as chilly does.
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