This evening, I have received possibly the best-titled junk email ever: 99 Ways To Not Kill Your Horse. Sadly, the contents were not in fact a handy guide, but an animal rights campaign. Oh well.
In other news, today was another midweek day off. I spent most of the morning poking myself in the eye, and the afternoon trying to find useful clothes; basics, an accessory or two, a skirt that isn't black or grey... I should have gone to Uniqlo! For all that it's in central London and I couldn't be bothered, I have a suspicion it has more of what I want in stock than any of the Woking shops. I know I shouldn't moan, but I dream of a wardrobe I could grab respectable-looking outfits from in the mornings without a second thought. Is this even possible? I suspect I will never know.
I'm really, really tired today (I stayed up stupidly late last night and got up stupidly early this morning) but weirdly enough I'm looking forward to work tomorrow. I was on the phone to my brother today and I found myself describing to him the surprising satisfaction in having a routine every morning and work to do all day. I know, it's too late for me, I've been assimilated.
Going to bed now. Sorry I can't be more interesting, but typing with my eyes closed is unlikely to be worth reading. SEe I'm teying ir hust fir tiy. See?