Saturday night, in which I wasn't watching Doctor Who because I had a sudden craving to watch Robin Of Sherwood again, and then I had to give up on that because it reduced me to a sobbing wreck within half an hour. I'd almost forgotten it has a tendency to do that; I haven't watched it in a year or so. Now there are foxes barking outside and I'm going to have to pretend I'm under a blanket in a forest just to get to sleep.
I am odd sometimes.
And tired, a lot of the time. Going home to Sussex tomorrow, for Easter. I can't believe my mum's not going to be there. Enough now. Had. ENOUGH.