When I came out of the shower, I found the PC had shut itself down and had to fix a malfunction, by which time I was supposed to be heading for my online physio class. (I already missed last week's-) Then I couldn't access it! HFS! Talk about self-destructive...
As usual, I didn't do any of the basic tasks I've set myself, and didn't exercise enough. I had some soup for lunch and puked, as well. Every little thing just SNAFUd.
Anyway, about five, I sat down, fell asleep and woke up feeling ill. I'm OK, now, although my mood is low. Grunt.
I am glad to see that sea shanties are having a social media moment, thanks to young Nathan Evans. I love 'em.
I've also been enjoying the Netflix series PRETEND IT'S A CITY, with NYC icon Fran Lebowitz ranting amusingly, and lots of lovely location shots.
I hope it's dry enough tomorrow to go to the park, check on the critters, and work my wretched body a bit.
There was an item on WOMENS' HOUR about adult crushes, a topic I find fascinating. All my life, regardless of any RL relationships, I've always had intense crushes on celebs, even long dead ones, like Chaliapin, and/or RL people I scarcely know, who are usually quite unaware of my existence, much less my pointless passion. I still have them, to a degree. I know I'm a mental case, but the emotions are strangely real.