Sup up your beer and collect your fags

I decided to go ‘painkiller free’ last night as I’ve always hated popping pills (oi, stop tittering at the back!) and as a result had the most uncomfortable night yet. Getting out of bed was a nightmare – I must have resembled a beetle on its back trying to turn itself over.

It’s freezing here, I just can’t get warm. After a late breakfast I began to return to the job I should have been doing all week – editing my great work! It’s reassuring to see all the words I’ve written are still there after all that’s happened, and some of it is quite good even if I say so myself. Two packages arrived in the post for me so it felt like Christmas. Hugo sent me the new Marc Almond DVD of his gig at the Almeida last year which I can’t wait to put on. Di sent me the book Purple Hibiscus by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie which I will read as soon as I get to the end of The Sea The Sea.

I went to see Bev and Comet – Comet (the most beautiful collie) was covered in mud after an adventure earlier today, and proceeded to rub some off on me. I posted off my E111 to the hospital as requested (phew – what a good job I sorted that out in November or there’d be a right kafuffle) and did some other odds and ends. My usual supermarket chauffeur was otherwise detained, so I trudged off to the nearest Champion on foot to stock up. My back was killing me by the time I got back, but I resisted the painkillers. Maybe later.

So there we are. Up to date once more, but without pictures for now. Just page after page of boring old me me me. And so it goes.

OK, let’s do some lyrics. What’s this from?

We came out of it naturally the worst,
Beaten and bloody and I was sick down my shirt