I am just a wee bit tired.
And my brain appears to be broken, somewhat. After the “pouring coffee in the overhead cupboard” incident of last week, and the excitement of selling the remaining handful of my books I managed to successfully sign them and put the in the appropriately addressed evelopes and then recall that I had put the entire thingy of stamps into one of the envelopes for safe keeping. When I say “then” I mean after I had sealed them all and did that Where The Fuck Did I Put X dance / wander around the house thing.
Then the worst thing happened. I had managed to leave it so that we were out of milk.
I used the remaining dribble in my coffee this morning. Which, at the time, was not an issue as I had Chippie home, which equals a complete fuck up of anything I want to do that doens’t invovle him and had thus planned a walk to the supermarket to get milk. For coffee. Amongst other things. Like Chippie’s pre-nap drink of milk.
As with all plans made by me, they all went to shit when I receive a phone call requesting an interview