Pieces of eight
Lorraine and I creeping out of bed this morning, at least pleased that today was hump day, aka Wednesday. Email today from Sarah Barnsley, who I like very much, and Richard on tenterhooks waiting for his new book to be delivered.
I knew today would be a slog, and Keith and I sprinting toward the finish line on the pitch we were working on. A snatched sarnie for lunch and caught late train home. Schoolboy error of not having an audiobook to listen to, contented myself with podcasts. Home late, but Lorraine later still, so I griddled mackerel and made a bit of stir fry. Happy to be home. Emails to send.
The empty wooden boards at the bottom of the Kenny coffers suddenly covered with doubloons today as two invoices paid.
After chatting to Mum. I spent what remained of the evening trying to choose books on Audible to listen to. I find it so hard to find anything I want there. Blessed bed.
I knew today would be a slog, and Keith and I sprinting toward the finish line on the pitch we were working on. A snatched sarnie for lunch and caught late train home. Schoolboy error of not having an audiobook to listen to, contented myself with podcasts. Home late, but Lorraine later still, so I griddled mackerel and made a bit of stir fry. Happy to be home. Emails to send.
The empty wooden boards at the bottom of the Kenny coffers suddenly covered with doubloons today as two invoices paid.
After chatting to Mum. I spent what remained of the evening trying to choose books on Audible to listen to. I find it so hard to find anything I want there. Blessed bed.
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