My ironing is nearly done. The pile was huge, but three nights of chipping away at it means it's almost done. The cat will miss his bed. Once the ironing is done and the clothes are put away, the holiday is officially over.
I've left it as long as I could.
I'm watching the David Beckham documentary on Netflix. I forgot how cute he was when he was younger. Pity he opens his mouth. (and at least he knows he's as thick as a brick).
The cat is asleep under his blanket. Nothing new there.
I'm contemplating doing NaNoWriMo. I want to do NaNoWriMo. I've done it before - got the 50000 works in a month out. It just takes discipline. I write here every day, what's another 1600 words if fiction? the writer's retreat has put a bit of fire in my belly to get writing fiction again. Now that the jet lag has all but abated, it is time. I feel a lot more supported now.
Three more items and the ironing has finished.
The cat is still asleep on the bed - not the ironing pile.,
The David Beckham documentary goes on. I remember a lot of this stuff, as I was living in London at the time.
There is a pink kettle bell in the middle of my lounge room floor. It needs to be put away before I trip over it.
It's time for bed.
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