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...because I certainly didn't sleep the sleep of the just last night. Quite the contrary. Partly my fault, because I put my book down in order to rest my eyes for a bit, and of course fell asleep instantly. So there were three hours of deep sleep, but when I'd cleaned my teeth and tansferred the mortal coil to bed, the nose suddenly blocked up and started to run. Impossible to fall asleep, so I got out of bed, took an allergy pill and waited for it to take effect. Unfortunately it didn't kick in till 3.30 (I'd taken it around 12.30), and when I'd finally, finally fallen asleep I was rudely awakened by a bunch of not-quite-sober party goers coming home at 4.45.
At first I thought I'd just call in sick, but since nobody can enter my office unless I give them the key, that wasn't a possibility; Gerald needs the visa stickers, and Irene might need money, and both are locked into my safe. So I guess I'll go home in the early afternoon, to have a nap -- staying at work would be just plain stupid, because I have trouble keeping awake, let alone doing anything even remotely useful.
The tennis court wasn't fit to be used yesterday, so I went to the gym -- predictably and unsurprisingly, my calf muscles are sore today, because running and playing tennis require very different kinds of movement, especially where the calves are concerned. Running went well, though, and so I was quite happy with myself.
What made me a little less happy was the head-to-toe jolt I got when I found a message from Mr H on facebook. I tried to persuade myself that it was just some kind of Pavlovian reflex, but being the mature and self-reflecting person I am ;-) I have to acknowledge that there's probably still a little bit of whatever it is left in the place where feelings dwell. Oh, well. It's something that has to be accepted and overcome, which I'm sure it will be, given enough time.
Tonight there shall be Pilates (at 5.30), and then comfort food, I think. And of course more of "A Feast for Crows", in the hope that we'll be done with the singularly boring Greyjoy thread sooner rather than later, and return to the interesting people. I have an intense dislike of all Greyjoys, especially Aeron the crazy priest/prophet -- I like the clever and cunning Bad Boys like Littlefinger, but couldn't care less about louts like Euron Crow's Eye and the like.
At first I thought I'd just call in sick, but since nobody can enter my office unless I give them the key, that wasn't a possibility; Gerald needs the visa stickers, and Irene might need money, and both are locked into my safe. So I guess I'll go home in the early afternoon, to have a nap -- staying at work would be just plain stupid, because I have trouble keeping awake, let alone doing anything even remotely useful.
The tennis court wasn't fit to be used yesterday, so I went to the gym -- predictably and unsurprisingly, my calf muscles are sore today, because running and playing tennis require very different kinds of movement, especially where the calves are concerned. Running went well, though, and so I was quite happy with myself.
What made me a little less happy was the head-to-toe jolt I got when I found a message from Mr H on facebook. I tried to persuade myself that it was just some kind of Pavlovian reflex, but being the mature and self-reflecting person I am ;-) I have to acknowledge that there's probably still a little bit of whatever it is left in the place where feelings dwell. Oh, well. It's something that has to be accepted and overcome, which I'm sure it will be, given enough time.
Tonight there shall be Pilates (at 5.30), and then comfort food, I think. And of course more of "A Feast for Crows", in the hope that we'll be done with the singularly boring Greyjoy thread sooner rather than later, and return to the interesting people. I have an intense dislike of all Greyjoys, especially Aeron the crazy priest/prophet -- I like the clever and cunning Bad Boys like Littlefinger, but couldn't care less about louts like Euron Crow's Eye and the like.
