tarragon

Well, it's Monday. I spent the whole weekend, stuck indoors, cradling a bottle of Covonia and trying not to cough up a lung and how do you think I felt when it was time to go to work this morning?

Fucking fine, that's how!

Typical.

Still, looking on the bright side I had postponed getting my tongue re-pierced last week as I didnt want to give Dave the Piercer the galloping lurgy by breathing all over him. So that's back on now.

And in other news, my mum is back home from hospital after a week long stay in the lap of private sector luxury being turned into the Bionic Woman. She has an all new hip joint, so will no doubt soon be back to kicking my dad's arse for not doing the DIY. The reason she went to a private hospital was because the NHS didnt have any bed space to accept her and she had been on the waiting list so long that she qualified for private treatment courtesy of HM Govt.

I am therefore also planning to put myself down for a new hip as soon as possible. Then I might just make it to the top of the list by the time I need one.

Question of the week: Why is lunch the quickest hour of the day?