Watching Celebrity 4 Weddings on sky plus and writing the last few pages of Budding. And playing games on facebook (thanks to my friend Mel, who sent me a link to a damn addictive game).
Yeah, I wanted to post something today, and I can't for the life of me remember what. I think it's time for me to read fluff. Not as bad as Lindsey Kelk, but maybe Sharon Osbourne or Sophie Kinsella again. Or a couple of other rom-com chick-lit I have scattered about that I'm yet to read.
This is the bit I hate about books. When reading, I'm absorbed. With a good book, I'll be desperate for the end, not for it to be over, but so I know the entire story. But when it's over, when I have to choose the next book, that's the hardest bit. I have so many options. My mood over the next few days depends entirely on this selection. And whether my brother refunds my ice cream he stole, knowing it was mine ... sick of him doing that. Sick of him to be honest. But that's a whole other entry. Or series of entries.
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