Sunday PM

Despite my best intentions - today was a bit crap. It rained early - throwing everything into disarray, and I spent part of the day in the loft - wondering how to tackle the mess and dertius up there. Despite feeling really good for a few days - I've still not shaken this flu and felt really rough by lunchtime - and then fell asleep for 2 hours in the afternoon. Serving to make me feel much worse. I'd earlier tried to take the dogs on their walk along the prom for Sunday - but managed to get as far as the bottom of the hill before I realise I might have left the oven on - ( I hadn't ) and had to return home.

I took the dogs out for a quick walk earlier and go no farther than the end of the road - the small, stumpy Staffie cross belonging to the mad drunk woman managed to get out of the house ( they were all of them in the front garden - pissed woman, pissed woman's twin pissed sister, the pissed woman's pissed boyfriend and two elderly people and the pissed  sister's small daughter ) and then attacked us - clawing big clumps of fur out of Alfie - much shouting by me and an attempt to kick the little fucker in the head - the pissed sister did nothing but cover the child's eyes - the pissed woman leering and stumbling towards me trying to say something - I wasn't interested. It's pretty pointless remonstrating with someone who in in the throes of deep alcoholic fuge. I'm really angry and a bit shaky now - they had better not come anywhere near me again. ( I should just point out that I have never seen them walk this dog, ever )

They are talking about the Death of Princess Diana on the radio, lots of self serving revisionism - including Tony Blairs speech - you can hear him trying really hard to 'almost' cry - just for the cameras - the right note of quivering grief in his voice. I read an article earlier in the Sunday Mail by Tom Daley - the swimmer/diver. At the time I thought he was an immature little prick caught up in the excitement of his own publicity - and frankly - I thought the press attention towards an underaged boy is tiny pants and a spray tan - disturbing at the very least. It seems that 4 years have not really matured him, he's now a slightly older annoying little prick, still in love with himself and believing the hype. He makes reference to  the time in China, diver Blake Aldridge ( his then diving partner ) was on the phone to his mum when it should really all have been about 'him' ( Daley himself was wearing earphones at the time ) - well, yes - you are at the olympics, you are in China, on the screen, having worked for years - you phone your mum... that's what you do. later he admits that Aldridge had worked for years to get there, through many injuries and financial problems - and was working at B&Q to fund himself to the Olympics - and that this was his last chance.... but why bother - when it was really all about the media darling Daley... the little shit.

I now have a thumping headache and am not really in the mood for much of anything. It's supposed to be really nice Monday and Tuesday - temperatures right up - I may be in a better mood then.