Here I sit at the end of a tester of a day. Having battled belligerence, boiling temperatures, bamboozlement, body pump and back splitting labour.
Since I last spoke to you, I spent Friday night baking a lemon tart and polenta cake to gift to my olds. And following this I spent the weekend with them. It was really nice, and I got the opportunity to spend time with Holly, my Nan’s Westie. She is so gorgeous.
I walked her along the canal and played with her, completely bemused at the fact she was completely tireless. I walked her for over an hour, and ran her got half an hour but to no avail. My poor grandparents, in their 80’s and they face the most bonkers dog day in day out!
We came back Sunday, having forced my washing on my mum. We have shifted the washing machine from my old flat, which had been relegated to cellar dwelling back up since I moved in with Pete, up to the kitchen and scrapped Pete’s old one. Currys having finally accepted that nearly a month later it was buggered, we are now back in the world of washing. It’s a simple pleasure.
Today was a bad day. It’s been bloody horrible truth be told. Over now. Holby City is depressing as well. My back is in spasm. I’m guilty of eating chocolate. I’m bloody annoyed at myself.
Any way. I’m going to go to bed. We all have bad days. And my washing machine is a light at the end of the tunnel.
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