Played football this morning which was fucking exhausting. First time in bloody ages, and the pitch was so fucking wet and muddy. Anywhere near the half way line, the ball just stopped.
Got a bunch of mates coming to watch the superbowl, never watched a game of NFL in my life. Why the fuck is it called the superbowl? Should we refer to the FA cup final as the MightyVase?
As expected, 11am left for the hopsital. A few blood pressure tests, bloods taken, an hour on some machine monitoring babies heartbeat and contractions followed by a growth scan and a chat with the consultant who said everything is perfectly normal and no need to worry about anything, p.s. I've booked you in to see an anti-natal consultant tomorrow morning.
6 hours of my life I'll never get back.