Well, it's not rum per se, more like any old dregs left over from Christmas. The only bloody drink left in the cupboard is brandy. Nobody ever sodding asks for it, so not sure why I buy it. Then again, I have to have visitors to actually ask for a drink... This could spiral quite badly, and I'm not ready to chat through that particular damp and dark rabbit hole, so, lets move on...
Long story short, I 'celebrated' putting away the Christmas decs with the end of the bottle of Bailey's topped up with a bit of brandy, and season 14 of RuPaul's Drag Race.
Needs must, but not recommended (the drink, not Drag Race. I whole heartedly get behind that show. It's a god damn gift to humanity! Love you Mama Ru!!).
The street is now drab and rain sodden. I loath this time of year. All the twinkly lights on the big houses down the street (which I can see through my patio doors - and the ones that can afford the leccy bill for said lights), have now gone. My street has now turned into a pitch black void of misery over-night. Of course, this happens every year when the Christmas decs are taken down. I vote that the nation take them away gradually, like a slow Christmas detox to prevent tinsel withdrawal.
Open to other suggestions that would prevent the insta-misery.
Anyway, we're shaking it off, and lets crack on with this year.
Tomorrow I resume my search for eggs.
Remember to:
Find a book on hamsters for the teen's birthday.
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