Home made soup does it again. At least that's what I'm blaming for the night of poor sleep. Gah. Must remember I use gourmet shite chilli powder and not to put so much of it in. Got up eventually to an autumnal Lincolnshire scene. Grey mist everywhere. Yum. That's motivating. I've got to get out of this place if it's the last thing I ever do. Things are quiet. I don't like that. The old emails and texts are barely ticking over. Got no idea where the weekend is going yet, got a couple of choices for things to do. Got a shift of the purgatory of tourist battering stuff at work (that all the happy munchkins are really into, but I see for the shite it is) that's management's current love today; maybe I'd better get that out of the way first before I start worrying about Saturday's drinking plan.

A funny day; my back's a nightmare at the moment... women of Britain, if your bloke waxes his back for you, bloody appreciate him! Mine's at the itchy nightmare stage at the moment and is driving me up the wall and back again. On top of that my legs are pain jelly from the new nasties I learned to do for their benefit at the gym yesterday. Only one thing to do. Go back and do it again.