If only my back yard really looked like this.
You've caught me red-handed! Dreaming of sitting - no, lounging - beside a sparkling blue swimming pool. Outside in the hot sunshine. Instead I am beached on the sofa, in front of the TV screen, paying sporadic attention to Jeremy Kyle. Does he even realize how much he gambles with these people's lives and emotion? Do they really do their hair like that intentionally? Do they know they are broadcasting their most private secrets on national television? With their hair looking like that?
Anyway, Bank Holiday Moday should be more than this so I am mobilizing the courage to get up and do something productive. I have already gone to Primark to look around for jeans for my better half. It was really quiet and so I wonder if the majority of Doncaster's population has become a bunch of zombies. It is also extremely windy out there and I felt so much like a tumbleweed bouncing across the street that I'd rather be in the safe, still confines of my home.
Anyone else feel like joining a writer's colony?
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