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desperance...therefore I shall stay up. But ooh, I am tired. I ache, and my back hurts, and all my bones are heavy in me and my flesh is an inefficiency of drag. Wanna go to bed. But it's too stupid early. But I don't want to write any more, and I don't want to pack any more books, and there's nothing on telly and I've read all the internets and and and.
I suppose I could have a bath. Then by the time I've soaked and indulged and pottered about after, it'll be closer to ten o'clock, and that may indeed be three hours earlier than I used to go to bed but that was long ago and I am old now. And I could read. I could read in bed. That would be nice, oh yes. *blesses his Kindle*
I think that's what I'll do, then. I'll take my bad back to my hot bath, and listen to radio programmes about hidden redwoods and the An Lushan rebellion; and then I'll read more Miles Vorkosigan, and then I'll turn the light out and listen to more radio until I fall asleep. Doesn't that sound lovely?
I suppose I could have a bath. Then by the time I've soaked and indulged and pottered about after, it'll be closer to ten o'clock, and that may indeed be three hours earlier than I used to go to bed but that was long ago and I am old now. And I could read. I could read in bed. That would be nice, oh yes. *blesses his Kindle*
I think that's what I'll do, then. I'll take my bad back to my hot bath, and listen to radio programmes about hidden redwoods and the An Lushan rebellion; and then I'll read more Miles Vorkosigan, and then I'll turn the light out and listen to more radio until I fall asleep. Doesn't that sound lovely?