Fuck I'm tired.

Not long home from work, a day spent not moving from in front of the computer. Oh, one toilet break and two trips to make coffee. Lunch? Nup. Dinner? Nup. At least my headphones worked today. (Yesterday had the potential to be known as the Pyrmont-Massacre... I need my music for basic sanity.)

So I've staggered home, thrown something decidely unappetising down my gullet, painfully, as my right tonsil has decided to go beserk, creating a charmingly painful ear-ache over the last 2 days. Noice. Oh, and my right ankle (the one full of metal) has decided to protest its lack of movement during the day by puffing up to look like one of those disgusting 1960s elephant foot umbrella stands. Mmmmmm. Attractive.

Actually,. for all the whinging, I'm feeling pretty good. Tired, which is a nice change for me at this hour.

Car goes in for a major service and pink slip tomorrow. Fingers crossed it won't be horrendously expensive. (The fact that I have to cross my fingers means I'm going to pay through the nose.) But if it isn't too expensive, I shall be buying myself and my sister tickets to 2006's Big Day Out. I missed out on tickets this year. And it sounds like a great line up. The White Stripes, Iggi Pop, and my idea of aural sex, Kings of Leon. Woohoo. That dirty southern guitar sound goes straight to my hips... in the best of ways.