time to recover

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The weekend is over and the working week has begun. Do I feel refreshed? No. Do you feel refreshed? It isn't even as if I was particularly busy. On Friday night we dallied with the dogs at the greyhound racetrack. They zoomed round whilst we stuffed our faces with lovely food and made bets on who would win. We ended up breaking even, so all was good. Saturday saw me spend spontaneous time with Baby Brother and his partner, looking for homes which they could rent, before stuffing our faces with lovely food. The ingrained dirt and quirky layouts of some places for rent always manages to truly amaze me. Spontaneity is not my middle name so I was left exhausted, but the evening brought with it the fun of Eurovision and a chilled glass Elderflower and Lime Cider. Even Sunday didn't allow for a lie-in. Off we tootled to the garden centre and the DIY shop. Exterior paint and lunch, then an afternoon of sleeping. And now it's Monday morning and I'm tired again. In an ideal world I would love to curl up and sleep for a week, but instead I shall be working. Still, only two weeks {eight working days} to half-term. I can make it ...