It's been one of those days when everything I feel like doing is something that can't be done here, and I wouldn't have time to do it anyway. Later, a bottle of lager will be consumed and Ella Fitzgerald will be listened to, I think. Right now, soiled fabrics are threatening to get out of hand unless they are made to behave by being thrashed inside the washing machine. Once they have been dried, I shall fold them to within an inch of what would be their lives, were they living. I will not be dissuaded from this!
I don't like Sunday.
I don't like Sunday.
no subject
Date: 2005-07-25 01:58 pm (UTC)