Weekend?

Where did the weekend come from? One minute it's Thursday morning, the next, I'm sitting here thinking "Saturday? Already?". Still, it's glorious weather this morning, no breeze and warming up at just after seven in the morning. Joyous.

Aside from plopping the Pirate post out on Thursday, I've done pretty much zero since then. I'm pretty sure we went into town Thursday, grabbing shopping and stuff for us and Ruth. We did dinner for both us and them as well - Jo cooks a mean stirfry. Thursday night we were social-like, and Friday we spent most of the day, you guessed it, in Ruths kitchen drinking coffee and taking the piss.

Nothing to report really.

Well, aside from the fact I'm still insomnia boy, but I am thinking it might have something to do with the fact I drink seven gallons of coffee each day. Of course, you say "cut down" but then, I get grouchy. Well, grouchier. Just don't make me moody. You wouldn't like me when I'm moody.

So here I sit, knowing that in the coming weeks I have to build another computer for someone else. Joy. I'm trying to not think about it as I REALLY can't be arsed, and no doubt it'll be a "Yeah thanks, can you install it. Yeah thanks, can you help with this. Yea thanks, you can go home now." without any mention of "Thanks for all your work, he's some cash." I've got one chap I help out that will always - without fail - just hand me £50 for LOOKING at his computer. Everyone else, not a sausage.

I imagine it's the same for people in families that have their own trade or skills. A plumber, electrician, a carpenter - whatever - I bet their families always pester them for "just that little job".

So anyway, here I sit on a sunny saturday, and actually have NO idea if we're doing anything today. Well, I KNOW I have to do the washing up. I can only put it off for so long. I could use the excuse "I'm trying to see what that green muck evolves into" but don't think anyone will believe me.

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