Like a week old takeaway left on the side to moulder

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That’s how I feel. I am *so* incredibly tired. I actually took to slapping myself on the face periodically as I struggled to stay alert on my way in to Bristol. Having parked up by the sadly defunked North Bristol Baths – still gorgeous – I headed over to the illustrious and much favoured Coffee #1 – where I spent about 5 minutes trying to work out how much cash I had. In the end I decided I had £5.50, and then when the woman asked for £4.95, I couldn’t actually work out that all I needed to do was not give her 50p.

So, in the end I trusted her (I really was very tired) – gave her the pile of change – and she gave me back the right amount…. and a very, very yummy hot chocolate and a brie and cranberry pannini. And I sat there reading Kushiel’s Chosen fighting my brain and attempting to stay awake.

It was actually dead nice to pretend that I had money for a bit – relaxing in a nice cafe having a nice quiet read.

And then I took Rebecca to her MOT.

….this is always one of those stressful and expensive times of the year.

But for the first time *ever* she passed. Two advisories – both pretty important – the handbrake only *just* meets MOT requirements, and one of her shock-absorbers is…well, just adequate right now, but probably not for much longer.

So, that’s some fun for me to work on. I knew I needed a new brake drum – so I guess I *do* need a new brake drum – but anyway, whole bundles of Yayness there. I also found a french-english dictionary (and a grotty bit of entertainingly bad GLBT fiction) for a combined £1.25.

I then managed to home, where I semi-collapsed for a bit, ended up giving up and actually sleeping for an hour and then headed out to councelling – which looks like it’ll follow the same path as last year. I’m feeling a lot better – I almost felt a fraud going there today – but once I start talking about stuff then yeah, I feel a lot crap. I’m bouncing back faster though, and I’m feeling a lot better *most* of the time. I think though, the space will help.

On the way back, in a staggering fit of enthusiasm I took the shiny new MOT certificate (is it just me, or are the new certificates crap? They just look like a bill from the garage) and the insurance docs round and got my shiny new tax disk.

There’s something terribly enjoyable about getting a Tax Disk for a historic vehicle….

Here’s my forms, yes, mmm, you do some work, yes, and give me the disk, and that’ll be *free*. *Dancie-dancie-shoop-shoop*. Yes, I’ll sit down again now. No, you don’t need to call security. Thankyou very much for the tax disk. No, I’ll leave now. It’s okay.


Kate is lord and mistress of all she surveys at