Just one look

We went out for dinner tonight. I had a particularly good week at work and we chose to recognise that by taking ourselves out.

It went along the lines of most nights; i snogged Si a lot and Tooli freaked. We had wine and Italian and we chatted and we laughed.

I have developed a problem though; and it happened last week too: the waiter comes up and says 'are you ready to order' and my voices drops two octaves and goes all growly and i say 'yus' like a monster. I can't stop it. I did it at least three times tonight - the poor wee lass taking the order looked horrified (and a bit scared)

Then we came home and I made Himself and me a cocktail (v. Badly and wrong). and at 4am i had to get up cause i felt tragic!

Am fine now; just weary! Himself on the other hand has bounded out of bed and is away to annoy shoppers in Morrison by bag packing with the Scout! Shoppers of Troon; go to his till; he is a bag packer extraordinaire!