Great Scott, I'm tired today. A confluence of events has caused this. Firstly, I've been charging around on my road bike, trying to get fitter for a while. The body, who is a conservative soul and fears change has decided to withdraw his goodwill, so I'm reliant on willpower alone to turn the pedals. And secondly, it's bastard hot in London at the mo. This makes it nigh-on impossible to sleep properly. Add those two elements together and it doesn't take long to turn one into a catatonic husk.
Thankfully tomorrow, which is being touted as the hottest day since the Romans returned home, is Friday. All I have to do on Fridays is turn up at the office in mufti, half-heatedly push a mouse round a desk for a couple of hours and then head to the pub for a refreshing binge or several. Life coaches refer to this as "letting off steam" - although if it's as humid and clammy as promised tomorrow, I may literally be required to give off vapour as my head acts as heat exchanger between my broken body and the atmos. Nothing cools the tired trunk at the end of the working week like nine halves of freezing cold Leffe Blonde.
Amen to that.
No comments:
Post a Comment