Sleepless in Shawlands

Why is it, every Sunday night, no matter how completely knackered I am, I cannot get to sleep? Maybe it’s cause of the longer lies during the weekend. Maybe it’s the dread of work the following morning. Maybe it’s the aliens hovering above my flat with their ray-guns. Who knows?

Yet another busty weekend. Or busy rather. A busty weekend would be a fine weekend indeed. Spend a fair amount of time working on this website that I’m doing freelance, as well as filling in a whole host of (paper) forms for various things. They seem to have been piling up for ages. Still got about 3 to do, but there’s no real hurry for them …. yet.

TV ariel people came on Saturday too, and stuck a nice digital ariel on the roof meaning I now get a clear picture for the first time in about 26 months. Who’d have thunk it! And what with the plumbers due this afternoon, it’s like a flat upgrade.