Sad I know, but I am sitting on my bed on a Friday night watching American Idol. (I like the singing okay, leave me alone).
Not a glass of wine in sight (although that may have something to do with the bourbon I drank last night).
And Vera Duckworth died on Coro (not that I watch it, really I don’t, I just like having something to talk to Mum about….) And I cried! Luckily Thomas wasn’t home yet.
But he is now. Sitting in front of the big TV in the living room swearing periodically at the ref, the Hurricanes and any other bastard that deserves it.
And to top it off, sister Maree texts me from a bonfire at Kinloch. JEALOUS!
Rove might be on the other channel but I can’t see the remote and I can’t be bothered getting out of bed.
The Hurricanes must have won, there hasn’t been an outburst from the cheap seat for a few minutes! Muttering though. MMm. I can’t make it out. Uh oh. It’s aimed at me and the mess on the kitchen bench.
Better go.
rivettingKateTaylor 
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