Tired Feet And Visiting Cats

I'm a tired, my feet have blisters on them and I'm in serious need of a beer. I got off work yesterday at 8 pm, went back there this morning at 7.30, hurried to school to get the goddamn course book from the library before it closed at four (and I need to read it all during the weekend, the library needs the book back on Monday and naturally I'm working again tomorrow), rushed back to town for a walk with a friend and finally got home at six. Why do I even bother paying rent?

And to top it off, the In Extremo CD I've been waiting for hasn't arrived yet. I know I'm dealing with the Finnish post, but the album was supposed to be mailed on Tuesday. It should have been here yesterday. If I don't get it by Monday I'm going to email people and give them a piece of my mind in no uncertain way. Can't they sense that I'm tired and grumpy and the best cure would be big, tattooed, bagpipe-playing men? Speaking of which, if someone has one of them just hanging around, you know, doing nothing and maybe being a bit of a nuisance with all that bagpipe action going on, you know when my birthday is. Tell you what, I'm a charitable person, I'm perfectly willing to take that burden off you any time. Just send them round my way.

But enough with wasting time, I need to start tidying up. I promised to look after a friend's mother's cat for a few days and the feline will start gracing my apartment with her presence tomorrow afternoon so there won't be any time to clean then.

A quick reminder of what will happen next July to improve my mood: