I'm officially Under The Weather. This doesn't happen to me much and I turn into a bit of a grumpy princess when it does. But I'm alone now (all the family have gone off) and a bit lonely so you people will have to do.

But then I don't have much else to say. I wish I had Buffy -- Series 3 lying around the house so I could go and watch it (no-one else will around here) or some such marathon vegetable session. As in veg-ing out, not as in er, carrots and things. I have a good book at the moment (thank you John) but one of my current afflictions is an eye infection so reading is headache making. Why typing isn't I don't know but it isn't.

I'm hot and I'll probably end up playing Half Life and cheating.

We are going to Paris next weekend. It's Anna's birthday on Monday and she doesn't know yet (so shh) and I wish I could summon up even one iota of enthusiasm for the project. I'm considering keeping Paddy and letting the women go on their own, but I wouldn't be let (proper order) and sure aren't the tickets bought?

I hate this stupid chair we have at this desk. It's a reject from work and I should have paid twenty euro for it but they never asked me for the money an if they do, I'm considering just giving them back the chair. I need something though -- but this ain't it.

And while I'm here I'd like to say that it's a sorry state of affairs that a poster campaign can be run in this country where they use the 'spelling' could'nt. Ich bin ein grammar nazi. Yes I know what they were trying to do, but it doesn't work. Not at all.

The aforementioned good book had me thinking profound thoughts on art and stuff and I thought I might make those thoughts into words that sort of hung out here and glowed and made people stroke their chins and go hmmmm. But no. I can't even remember much of what I was thinking a couple of evenings ago and the book is good but not so good that I'd re-read the first fifty pages in the (probably vain) hope of re-creating these wonderful thoughts. So you'll just have to make do with this.

Hmmm.