Why do I always seem to go into the local newsagent when I'm in a hurry and get stuck in the queue behind the critta that's disputing something to do with his £1 scratch card? The latest this morning was eventually given £5 which he promptly converted into five more scratch cards.
Tried to help a friend last night with ideas for a presentation she has to do. Don't think I was much help. The creative juices just weren't flowing. Should have had a slurp of Shiraz beforehand perhaps or even popped a Ginko Biloba.
Currently working on an excuse to myself not to go swimming. Why am I so good at getting to results when I set myself tasks like this? Baha...
Must phone Peter McBride and find out how he got on in Malawi spending my money.
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