It was supposed to rain. it didn't. I would have done something practical if I thought it wasn't going to rain, in the end - I had something close to total physical and mental collapse and spent the afternoon in bed. I was very tired. I'm now watching Hannibal on DVD and drinking coffee in the vague hope it will perk me up.
Took the dogs back to the kennels this morning, they told me yesterday that Alfie greyhound was getting a bit bored - so I took them in 12 large vacuum packed ham bones. I was a bit worried but actually they seemed happy enough to be there - but I'm not going to take them back for a while - it's probably stressing me out more than them.
I'm not really surprised I'm so tired, but I hate it - I'm planning on working from my studio on Thursday and then in London on Friday - with 3 days in Brighton to start the week. I hate the commute - I'm mostly gritting my teeth - I don't know how I managed it for years.
Managed to avoid the marathon, despite it passing the house, didn't spark my imagination this year at all. I
I need to do stuff tonight but I'm just not in the mood - really struggling to concentrate on anything. I made the mistake of buying a different brand of washing powder and I've come out in a rash as a consequence. Will I never learn.