The Week That Wouldn't Die

Car problems again. The sort of thing that makes you shout 'cockFUCKER!', which doesn't really make much sense and/or help, but it does seem to ease the need to scream. Which is good.

I got off fairly light this time--it was only a rusted out muffler strap. So every time I turned a corner, I heard this ungodly THUD! from somewhere in the nether regions of my beloved car Anneke. So after work, I walked through the East End of London, which is always depressing, to pick up the beast. Came home, tired of the week, tired of the grey day, to see that bastard squirrel--which had moved into the--wainscotting?--the plastic shelf that lies beneath the eavestrough?--thingamabob?--anyway, the little treerat bastard has now chewed several holes in the whatever-it-is. I did not shout 'cockFUCKER!' but I wanted to. Which is bad.

So it's Friday. I'm burnt out. I hope tonight to just play Kingdom Hearts, maybe some Morrowind, and end the night reading 'Gardens of the Moon'.

Then sleep. Oh, blessed sleep....