I slept for 11 hours straight last night.
I got up in a mild panic, as the piglet needed feeding and my mother had threatened to pop over.
I shoved a load of stuff in the washing machine, fed Apollo, got the post in, got myself sorted out, and then took my place underneath the blanket still strewn across my personage.
I have not left this spot except to visit the bathroom, unload the washing (that was done on the way back from aforementioned trip) and get sustenance from the kitchen. In short, I have only got up a few times, and feel like complete poop.
I am going to get up in a moment as I promised myself an hour ago (or more) I'd get a hot drink. I may combine the strenuous jaunt to the kettle with a fridge raid. Can you believe the freezer chocolate is still there?! I also have an unopened pot of my favourite set yoghurt. They need demolishing. Now.
I spoke to Gray and it turns out that I could probably have gone up to his today as he's in the same boat (except he's been productive and worked from home). Only 10 days or so and we have an entire weekend together. That'll be nice*.
I somehow have to figure out how to get to work tomorrow. I'm not hopeful after today's poor performance...
*Bar the feeling sick after we've eaten too much and have had our ears bent - or having been ignored - by his work colleagues.
