It was a short week. It just flew by until today, which seemed like three days in itself. I didn't have much to do, I should have just taken the afternoon off, but by the time I realised it was 4.30 and there did seem to be much point.
But now it's over, so what do I care.
Let's go dancing.
Friday night is my night out of choice, now. That way I have two days to recover and not just one. If I go out on Friday night, when I come-to it is Sunday morning. If I go out Saturday night, the next thing I seem to know is that it is Monday morning.
No!
It kind of spoils the whole thing.
But waking up Sunday morning, it doesn't, really, matter how you feel, you've got 24 hours to pull it together.
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