With my bike out of action, I run in to work. Which isn’t particularly memorable other than for being quite a painful experience and the weather, which was dark and miserable, although dry, didn’t help.
The coffee at work is now black. At lunch time I walk to Sainsbury’s to fetch some milk and other supplies. No wonder no one works over Christmas when we are subjected to such third world hardship. No milkman and no sandwich vans.
In the afternoon L joins everyone else who’s on a prolonged Christmas skive at the pantomime. Yes another one, her third of the season. That must be worth some sort of award. She warns me that she doesn’t intend being AF. That’s totally understandable. I wouldn’t be AF if I was going to a pantomime either.
She goes to the pantomime with her parents who then come back to our place afterwards and we have another present giving session. We could blame the weather for being five days late, everybody else does, but we won’t. The post office would probably be elated at only being five days late.
When her folks are gone I get around to submitting that tax return, after only two glasses of wine as well.
(Thursday 30th December)