Even the back up plan backfired.
Yesterday didn't quite go according to plan. I did manage to buy most of the things on my list, but actually putting these new items into some kind of physical perspective didn't quite happen.
The barbecue is probably about a third built. Considering I've never actually 'built' anything in my life before, I think it's pretty good. Well, when I say pretty good, the fact that it's still standing the following day is a good sign, huh?
I have however, discovered that mixing concrete is the most boring job in the world. Boring, repetitive and straining on my wrist. So much so, I've now got a nice case of 'tendonitis' in my right arm.
To top that off, all the bending and kneeling down yesterday has nicely fucked up my left knee again. Ever since I hurt it whilst playing 'stupid dumb action man' when we went paintballing last year, it's never been fully recovered.
So today at work, has seen me mostly hobbling around and struggling to write anything down. It was quiet anyway, so I managed to leave just before 4 o'clock, which was nice.
I've got Otis Redding playing now and I think I'm gonna have a sneaky smoke on the back step.
And just when I thought the day was going really crap, The Girl asks me if I can go and see her tonight. She's been working really, really hard and had a lot of crap to deal with, so we didn't think we'd be able to hook up this weekend at all. We hoped, but never expected.
Somehow, she's managed to pull off the impossible.
I'm gonna try my best to pamper her tonight, wine included.
Something keeps getting into my garage.
Sometimes I go in there and find newspapers shredded up and boxed burrowed into. Today, I've gone in there and found loads of soil everywhere. The little fucker (whatever it is) has dug through the corner of a bag of soil I bought yesterday and spread the rest of the contents all over the floor. Luckily I'd used about half of it to repot Marley and the new plant, Aretha, otherwise it could have got very messy.
I wish I could find that bloody book!
2 parlez:
the sketch book?
hello bedshaped! *waves*
i reckon you've got mice in your garage. deffo. time for moustraps baited with chocolate (they like it better than cheese....
fluff,
The book.
It needs no more explaination.
surlygirl,
Sketchbook....nah.
I take it I am sneaking under Webmarshall's radar then!
You could be right about the mice, but I'm not into the whole trap thing. I think I'm just gonna move the stuff they've been routing through to a higher level.
Hopefully, they wont come back after they realise there's fuck all in there for them.
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