I’ve had quite a rich weekend. Is that the word? It felt enriching, that's what I mean.
I went to the pub. I had a stroll through London. I went to the theatre. I got drunk. I met up with old friends. I read the paper. I danced to electro. I watched a DVD. I went to the pub again. I watched a firework display from my bedroom. I did a stir fry. I watched TV. I went for a run. I (nearly managed to) set up a wireless network. I went to the cinema. I ate out with a friend. I read a novel.
Not in that order, of course.
Anyway: has anyone at work today asked me what I got up to at the weekend? Have they fuck.
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2 comments:
It sounds like the perfect London weekend (assuming that the running you did was for the bus...).
People are so rude. Not sure about the dancing-to-electro bit, but if that's your bag... (not handbag, I don't mean)
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