Easter Blurgh

Why do I find it impossible to get out of bed at the weekend?? All my merry plans for my days off fade under the warm temptation of my duvet. I must really never ever live by myself. Much as I value my independence, I think I'd end up spending all day in bed, with occasional trips out for the necessities. And I would spend so much time eating junk, that it'd reach the point where I wouldn't be able to get out of bed, because I'd have turned into a gigantic ball of lard. Uck.

Having said that I did manage to spend a fair amount of time yesterday shopping (managed to barter the price down on a cake tin - the first time in my life - made me strangely proud) and baking a rather fine cake which I plan to feed to TheCroydonMassive, and then continuing to build my rustic table in the garden. Felt slightly hampered by my neighbours having a dinner with guests outside, as kept panicking that I was being too noisy. But in the end it was the mini-neighbour that caused all the noise, when she got grumpy, and started bawling. Then double-hampered myself by forgetting to put my work-gloves on, and letting the saw slip down on my finger, slicing a nice bit of skin off. Uck.

Still, must make better use of weekends. Will go out. Will have a life. Etc.