And the next day...

Well, sleep does help.

It wasn't a great sleep, but it was sleep. That's a good thing.

You know what would also help? If, on top of everything else, I hadn't got this frigging cold. It's bad enough to be mentally exhausted; adding physically exhausted to the mix hasn't exactly been good for the spirits.

As you might have noticed.

Anyway, things are looking less bleak today. Even if I have a headache and can't breathe.

And would like to go back to bed.

Hey, here's a thought. Maybe it is all grey and hopeless after all...

Yeeesss, that's right. I've got nothing so I'm falling back on British sketch comedy yet again. You really should be used to it by now. And while we're at it, let's watch Hugh Laurie being hit on the head, shall we?

Matter of fact, let's see a bit more of that sort of thing.

Hmmm.

Anyone out there wonder why he admits to having neck problems now?

Might have something to do with this, I suppose.

Well, I'm so distracted by now that I can't be bothered remembering if I actually had something to post, so I'll leave you with a bit of non-Laurie British violence. Yes, I know I've posted it before, but I don't care. You just can't get enough fish-slapping, you know.





Going now.