Apparently I drank brandy the other night (for the first time in my life). Maybe that's to blame for my inertia this past four days. That, the weather or the 22 pints that preceded it.
Back in work, which is no bad thing. I've been off since Friday, and there's only so much time you can spend playing with the cat.
Not that I'm knocking the kitten (Mr. Kitty/Trevor), he's a compliant wee fecker (once you spray him!). He likes me too, and doesn't mind if I blame him when I fart. Which is nice.
Otherwise, it's back to writing about Britney, Justin and some other celebrity non-entity. I'll get to the good stuff later. Off home next weekend, with the dual objectives of refusing the booze and seeing the quack. Hope he doesn't prescribe a Hennessy or two...