So I got in from my knitting social at 9.45pm and, for some bizarre reason, it seemed like a good idea to clean the hob. Now I partly blame this on the up-tempo music on my iPod which frequently cons me into doing more up-tempo activity than my natural inclination would lead me to contemplate and partly I blame the fact the hob is black and I therefore couldn't see exactly how disgustingly filthy it was.
In retrospect it's good that I cleaned it, it being so filthy and all, but perhaps not late at night when I'm tired and hubby is already in bed... not that I'd get a lot of sense out of him necessarily if I was up there anyway.
I dunno why I did it - cleaning sprees like this normally only hit me when I have PMT...
Sweet dreams all.
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