Spent all day in bed

Nothing much more to add really. Got up, walked Max. Had a brew. Went back to bed. got up. Made a sandwich and a brew. Went back to bed. Got up. Walked Max. Zapped a pizza. Made a brew. Went back to bed. It's Max I feel sorry for. The guilt isn't making me feel any better. There's the Monthly Meet of the local Geocachers this evening at a pub just up the road and it sounds weird to say this but, I don't feel well enough to go. Sounds silly when you put it into words. I'm depressed. Not well enough to go out. That in itself is depressing, and frustrating. I'd love to go out. After all it is the last meet before the Christmas meet and I have a prize to donate for the raffle. Grrr! I've been reading The Wrong Boy by Willie Russell. A novel set in the mid 80's I guess. I'm not sure Carole realised how depressing it really is when she leant it to me. Child abuse and Morrisey. Whoopie do! I have to admit I am hooked though some of it is hard work. A bit like reading this diatribe I suppose.