I’ve just had a whole bag of them. I shared with my colleagues of course, but the majority ended up being shovelled into the huge pie-hole located at the front of my head.
Yum.
Well, it’s nearly the weekend. We have a friend coming to stay, which means I’ll spend most of it out and about, probably in a semi-drunken state and seeking something more to eat.
Not entirely sure about the specific plans as yet but I know that this evening is going to be a ‘civilised’ dinner somewhere pleasant. Now, we all know that this means we’ll have an enjoyable, civilised dinner somewhere, drink a cellar’s worth of wine and decide to lurch off to a West-End club to drink far too much before tumbling into a cab at the crack of sparrows, then crawl into bed well after day-break. This whole kind of evening is what’s planned for tomorrow tho, so we’ll be dreadfully over-hung but will force ourselves out into town to do it all over again. Typically, Sunday will be spent promising anyone who will listen that we won’t be drinking again and that our healthy lifestyles are due to start first thing Monday morning. Which of course, they won’t.
I can’t wait! I do love a major weekender!
I also need to fit a spot of retail therapy in too. I need a winter coat and some new things to wear. Well, I say need. That’s not strictly true. I’d like.
The weather has suddenly, and sharply, turned chilly. Frost everywhere this morning and visible breath. I wasn’t expecting it. By the time I got to the tube station today my ears hurt. Anyone in Canada, Scandinavia or Siberia who may be reading this could probably sneer with good reason at such blousey reactions but hey! I’m British. It’s what we do. We discuss weather. Constantly.
Next entry it’s really all back to cake. Or at least I’ll try! Honest.
1 comment:
I so hate the fact that I can never have enough of jaffa cakes.
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