Hand Painted Covers

It took the whole day yesterday just to paint 20 of these record sleeves, numbered 1-20. It was a nice peaceful activity and I managed not to spill Windsor and Newton Apple Green (they don't do Pea) all over everything. The other 80 will be monochrome, for the trendy buyers amongst you. It will go with your tubular steel and black leather furniture, won't it?
The doc tells me that I've got viral laryngitis, but I kind of have to go in to work at least tomorrow morning. We're in the middle of a strike at the moment and it's as important to go there on the days when we are not striking, as it is to not go in on the days when we are.
I'm on my fifth trashy detective novel and even though I've learned to avoid Martina Cole, today's book by a similar author is true rubbish. I'm already lost beyond hope in corny characters (there seem to be hundreds of them), sudden location jumps and improbable events.
Meanwhile real life goes on outside my doors, good things and bad things. I've got enough energy to get to the end of the street and back, to lift the remote control and point it at the TV and to put the kettle on.
It's really weird being the world's most hyperactive person and finding myself just wanting to sleep all day. Being a slow DIY vinyl record production plant is just about ideal, really.
Onwards, and not going upwards or downwards.