How can it possibly be Sunday night ALREADY? It seems like 2 minutes ago that I was prancing home from work on Friday night, looking forward to two days leisure... And yet all I seem to have done is watch crap TV (with the exception of Kevin Spacey and the PM on Parky yesterday, and Planet Earth on BBC1 tonight), and do housework. And the thing is, my flat is STILL a mess!!
And why is it that time behaves in such a strange fashion - draaaaagging sloooowly by when you're at work, and whizzing past, like one of those tea-trays
they play on at the winter Olypmics, when you're at home.
I wish I could work from home - I'd be quite happy with my job if I could do it in my slippers and PJ's.