Crunch.
Splat.
Dead snail.
Every time I walk into the garden I feel like a mass murderer. There seems to be a new gang of snails taking up residence on my patio, and I'm slowly killing them one by one.
Accidentally of course.
I'm no meanie.
My head is feeling a bit wonky now so I shall depart.
Need to get up early and have a workout at the gym after two weeks of stuffing my face with food and alcohol. Ugh, its gonna be painful. Excruciating. Horrible. Sweaty. Gross. Whoever said exercise was enjoyable?? But I shall go, face my demons and work on turning my body into a temple. Ha.
xxx
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