Something is seriously wrong with me. This is now the third (yes *third*!) day in a row I've been up before 8am! Today I woke up at 04:56 -- I mean, wtf?
I'm going home today and need to catch the 08:42 train from Piccadilly to Selby so as to arrive at Selby station for 09:58. Then I get to go and view some kitchens. I can't say I'm overly excited about that, but I guess it is better than, hmm, sitting about bored.
Maybe it is the stupid tale of the nachos that has done it... my body is now attempting to always be super-tired come the time that I might otherwise consider nipping across the road to Kro2 to grab a bite to eat?
Anyway, I have no idea. I decided to use the extra time to wash my clothes, which I put off last night (and the night before). I didn't wash my sheets today but I'll do those next time and use the spare set I have crumpled up in the cupboard. At least when I come back on Sunday night everything will be nice and "clean sheets"-ised.
Also, I told the downstairs people a couple of days ago that our hoover sucked, but didn't pick up crap. My floor is horrendously dirty -- not my fault either, as I picked up the hoover about a week and a half ago, found it didn't work, so put it back, hoping that the cleaner would get it sorted when he came to hoover the main hallway. I checked again on Monday -- no luck. But I looked this morning and discovered a spangly new (well, to us, anyway) blue hoover sat in the hoover cupboard. I think I'll get hoovering my room at this scary morning hour just to piss off whoever decided to prop their bedroom door open last night while playing loud music.