There is, and always has been, in my opinion, something dreadfully dull and mawkish about Sunday afternoons. Even when I have awoken in a reasonably lively mood and plotted my forthcoming actions, by the time the sun has hopped over the yardarm, whatever good intentions I had have all mysteriously been washed from me.
Today, I fully meant to get up, shave, shave my head (hair was getting out of control - over 1/8" long tut tut...), shower, eat and then do a bit of music writing/recording. I got as far as the shower bit, then it took me 4 cups of tea, codeine (for my ever increasing pains!) and 3 hours before I even managed to force myself to eat.
Having said that, I am now in the studio, with the P.C. turned on (obviously, otherwise writing this could have proved difficult), and I have even managed to go through and sort out a few old songs ready for recording (or in certain cases scrapping).
However, I turn and stare at the view from my window, forget what I was about to do, and....
....I can't be bothered to finish this!
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