00:48

Another square foot of rain forest depleted by my politically incorrect bathing habits. But I feel not an iota of guilt even as my back lauds my endeavours to single handedly destroy the ozone layer. I firmly believe that Superheroes must be made to sing for their supper. Hmmmm. Supper. The cold draft through the open window does little to sublimate the aroma of garam masala that clings like liquid latex to the walls. I sniff to make sure its not sleeping through my pores. Even that would be too much for BhagraMan to take on...

To brew or not to brew. That is the question that consumes me. Like an addict, the urge is overwhelming, but I do have to look pretty by noon tomorrow and turning up late to your own party, is beyond lame. I did ask the ex if he was getting me a present. "Do I have to?". I'm presuming it's a rhetorical question. I love presents! I grovel him into submission and he agrees to another lesson to help fix the problem (i.e. my lack of memory) with the photo site. Good thing we're divorcedish. Justifiable homicide would've been the theme at his funeral otherwise.

Weather check and then I'm off. I'm determined to be slinky tomorrow, but petulant behaviour from the weather gods isn't something I will be capable of dealing with in the 45 minutes between sleep and noon. Rumour has it at 15C. Hmmmm. Check. Plan A & Plan B good to go.

P. S. - Profound thought: The only difference, between a rut and a grave, is the depth.