Wots wrong with me? Normally, a good smothering of snow would have me wanting to bound off to the Beacons for some wintertime fun runnin'. But I sit here at the keyboard and I really couldn't be arsed. There is a winter league race this afternoon. Only a couple of miles but again....can't be arsed. Stuck in my 6 hour disasterous commute last night, listening to bright young things phoning into Ginger Twat saying there were off to Wales for the weekend mountain biking. All I could think was...stupid twats.
Arrggghhh, wots happenin' to me? Senility? Grumpy Old Manhood?? Or can I blame it on SAD?