The problem with a good weekend is that, when it's followed by a bad Monday it feels even worse.
This weekend wasn't a major high. I had a good gig on Friday night which I enjoyed. I spent most of Saturday building a garden wall at the front of our house (for which my back is still punishing me). On Sunday we had a birthday party for Connor which started as a kids party and slowly morphed into an adult celebration with much wine and beer.
I'm glad I booked this morning off work but even so, dragging myself out of bed was hard. Smiling my way through a slightly pointless meeting was tough and keeping my eyes open all afternoon without the aid of caffeine was a real task.
To cap it off, Sharon's car packed up this morning. I think the starter motor's knackered but I don't have the time to look at it or the money to pay someone else to look at it.
I need more sleep. I'm sure it'll all seem better in the morning.
