BT is spending the next few days messing with our phone-line. Either the Internet is there, or we can receive phone-calls, or neither, but never both. Don’t they know I have a NaBloPoMo target to achieve? Also, they are seriously interfering with my commentability. Sorry. I don’t hate you all at all, in fact I adore you more than words can say, but you simply can’t go blog-surfing and waving when all the little green lights on the modem box go out. Every fifteen bloody minutes.
Still having arse beaten to bloody pulp by insomnia. Hence last night’s outbreak of sub-standard Beckett references. I am so very sorry. And tired.