Thursday

Some banging around in the early hours and then vomiting.

Steady.

It can only mean one thing.

Bloody Dotty.

I was aware of her crashing around downstairs at around 3am. I decided to let it go and went back to dreaming about [not bloody telling you.]

Three hours later and I walked into the CARNAGE in the kitchen: a dead mouse with his his head half eaten, next to cat sick containing… half the head of a dead mouse.

Bloody Dotty.

But she’s a damn good hunter, I’ll give her that.

I put on the marigolds and got to work with the scrubbing before the first cup of tea of the day.

It was all done before The Postman Delivers:

The Postman Delivers: More trading on former glory #nffc #TwoStarsOnTheBadge

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#WotNoTwoStarsOnTheBadge etc?

Blimey.

We must be talking serious Forest retro here.

Or perhaps just an eBay bargain as I try and trade on past Trend End glory days.

I had a very tight turnaround for the swim ahead of the first work shift.

The Trail was parched.

#WeirdWiv, innit

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I felt similar when I reached the other end.

The swim was ACE.

Forty lengths in a lane to myself.

I made it back to base just in time for the work shift, plus with perfect timing to watch Surrey wrap up the Championship game up at Scarborough.


Whisper it: *shhh* this is a serious Championship contender side for the ‘rrey this season.

Work was routine.

I finally, finally managed to edit and publish the SE21 school content from Monday.

I need a new approach to this. One working day is stretching out to three or four. I need to reconsider my workflow.

Work was scheduled all the way through until the end of the day.

I ducked in and out of the England match.

Anna rocked up late in the day will tall tales of her la-di-da London lifestyle.

Hey hoe.

The waiting game

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