The Queen of sleeping in.

I have spent the last two days pushing the boundaries of sleeping in, like some kind of teenager. Even though it's been a good seven years since I could count myself as such. I actually managed to get up before midday today which means that I might actually get to bed before around three in the morning. Fascinating, I know. Plus, for some mysterious reason, I've even started wearing big woolley rainbow bed socks. Very attractive, granny stylee...

My only aim for the last two days was to register at the new doctor's surgery. And then make an appointment to get all the various ailments I've been saving up seen to. Have I? No. It's only 3.00, I still have time to go. Bugger it, there's no way I'm taking my bedsocks off now. I'll never get my shoes on over them. I'll just have to stay here and watch some more Top Gear. I'd also been meaning to get some writing done today. God knows the novel that will make my fortune won't write itself. Unfortunately there is one vital flaw in my cunning plan. When it comes to writing stories, I'm pretty damn crap. Even I'm bored with the story, which doesn't bode well. Procrastination is the key, as they say... Or is that presentation?