I have been feeling exhausted recently. My brain seems to have been totally fried. Yesterday I intended to work, although it was a public holiday. Instead I spent the morning reading: The Holow men - a Dr Who novel
My excuse for reading other Dr Who novels was they were written by Douglas Adams or Micheal Moorcock. I have no excuse for reading this novel. It was fairly warm outside, so I could finally sit on the balcony and read. Relaxation and all that. Ironically, the book involved Liverpool in a minor (and perhaps pointless way, just when I was trying to finish work for Liverpool.