Time away from me will get you down

I'm sitting at my desk, and I'm really not sure what I should be doing. I've checked my email, sent a most luscious picture of Dave a bit pissed on Saturday night to him (I want to send it to his mum too), read a bunch of blogs, and now I'm sitting here wondering what to do.
I have to write a chapter for someone's book, so maybe I should get started on that, but I really can't be arsed. I could write this weeks classes that I have to take, but I don't know what I'm supposed to be teaching them this week. I could go and find out, but that involves a bit more effort than what I'm prepared to commit to at this hour on a Monday morning.
Perhaps I could compose a report of Saturday night's party action. I don't think there was any scandal, I'm sorry to report. Ben climbed the tree in the back garden, but thats fairly normal.
I took a bunch of photos, but I'm yet to figure out how to post them.
I got quite drunk on a most scrummy blend of Absolut Citron, orange juice and lemonade. Most moreish, but I just got nicely drunk, and was reasonably sensible on Sunday. I didn't fall off my shoes, which is always a good sign.
Why is it that when one is a little hungover, one has an incredible ability to eat one's own weight in food? Man, I ate like a complete bitch yesterday. There were corn chips, cheese sticks with aioli, eggs on toast, chilli stirfries, more corn chips, and about a litre of the Dark Master, aka the nastiness that is coca cola. Usually I barely touch the stuff, but the day after a night on the turps, I can chop my way through a goodly amount. Ick.
Its raining and I have a cold.
Lovely.
I just saved several hundred dollars by not going to the so-called cheapest travel agent. Haha, I went to the nice one with the flash offices, and now my flights to NY are about five hundred dollars less. Suck on that.
Right. Back to it then.
Whatever it was.