And not my kind of morning either

You know the kind where you're woken by the heat and humidity....? Knowing that you feel so tired you'll never get back to sleep again? And when the cat comes and does his morning dance on your chest to make sure you're alive, the claws actually hurt? Lots. And you're craving orange juice especially because you know there's none in the house, as you're running down stocks due to being away at the weekend? I hate those mornings. Guess what. Today's one. May be the fact that I had pizza before bed, or that I wasn't abed til gone one am, but I feel awful. And the day's funpacked, not much spare space here.

Just off to CBY to see if I can bag the Spanish deployment as they go home; that'd be a good thing. Somewhere along the line I need to get my camera hoovered, my hair cut, some basic provisions purchased as I've got guests tonight and a quick devotion at the temple of the saint of government officers; St Bastard of the Unreasonable; that he may let the evening shift go without interuption or extension... I have things to do. Of course he won't listen; he's even meaner than the god of Plane Spotters, and that's one vengeful god. Still haven't worked out how to appease THAT bastard after twenty plus years at the game.