Devonshire Street tunnel, Central Station

Today seemed to be a very busy day, during which I was either scurrying to somewhere or from somewhere, and whenever I got to wherever it was I needed to be, it seems I only had to be there to hand over some money.

I'm sure it achieved something (other than depleting my bank account), but it didn't seem terribly enjoyable, nor did I have anything much to show for the shower of receipts that fell out of my handbag when I finally got home.

In other news, I received in the mail a director's cut of Bladerunner. Which would be fine, except that I have no idea who sent it, or why on god's little green earth any sane human being would want a 5 dvd set that has at least 4 different versions of the same film, plus 'making thereof'' and various other extras (and I can't remember what they were but I'm blowed if I'm going to leave my nice warm doona to go out into the cold loungeroom to fetch the dvd just to find out).

I mean, I like Bladerunner, but that boils down to a seriously hardcore 'like'. And I don't like anything that seriously, except maybe chocolate.

Ok, definitely chocolate. Preferably mint chip, but I'm not so hardcore that I wouldn't accept any other type.

I think I should probably stop here, before this conversation goes any further.

Night all.