Another day, another glass of wine. Ok, if that were every day, I wouldn't be so enamoured by the stuff - and neither would my liver. But that's beside the point. Another day is over and I don't really have a lot to show for it other than a plan for my final dissertation chapter which I am about 80% happy with, 110 words to start it, and an 800-word review for last night's show Clockwork Canaries at the Theatre Royal. I have only seen two other reviews and neither were too pleased with it, either because it was just that bad and I haven't been doing this shit long enough to know it, or they're just very picky critics. Either way, I have made my contribution.
Tomorrow is another day when I hope to reach the 20% mark on my dissertation chapter, get some laundry and cut-and-paste poetry done, and maybe make a stew? (That reminds me, I need to get chicken out for that - and put the leftovers of today's spaghetti and meatballs away - later). For now, it's living on that cheap wine high and chill beats. It's been an ok Saturday really. Someday - some day - I might get the hang of this blogging thing. I don't want it to be like a diary, rather just somewhere to put my memories of life (so yeah, maybe it is a diary but there are no secrets here, obviously).
I will hopefully report back with good news tomorrow, but I think sleep is in order right now. Later!
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