Fucking bollocks
It was for charity, right? Locks froze, took me 25 minutes to lock the front door. Combine that with feeling like shit, a shite District line and having to wait until 9am before being able to try to find somewhere in Ilford that sells de-icer (Poundsaver, apparently — nowhere seems to sell WD40 these days!) means I’ve only just got into the office.
And I want a cigarette.
And my legs*really* fucking hurt.
Random Thought: Why does physio seem like such a bind, when it’d stop me hurting quite so earling much?
Random Link: www.no2id.net/
Last modified: Friday, May 8th, 2026 at 5:22pm
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