My shipment of CDs from Duffelbag turned up this morning. One extremely obscure CD which will be a Christmas present for my dad (and which I'm not going to name here just in case he reads this!) and some random stuff that I bought on impulse for myself (Shania Twain, "The Woman in Me"; The Waterboys, "Dream Harder"; Offspring, "Americana"; and Paula Cole, "This Fire").
I'd use Duffelbag again -- they're in the USA so postage/customs is potentially a bit pricey; however, they do seem to have a pretty good selection; payment online was easy; they shipped the stuff they said they would, when they said they would; and they kept me informed by email. Much better than Play, who have still so far failed to send me the CD I ordered about a month ago. On the other hand they've refunded payment for incorrect CDs, and postage for returns, so this ongoing farce is only costing them money (and costing me some faff, I guess).
New CDs are helping to keep me awake at work, at least; I'm still absolutely shattered and very fuzzy-headed (my own stupid fault, I know) and I think when I get home tonight I'm just going to go straight to bed. :-/ In the meantime I have to pretend to be writing some Perl to mumble mumble MARC quackety-oink original information honk! honk! lost in translation.
Words, words. I feel like I'm wandering along an endless shoreline, waiting for the waves to return something that I didn't realise I'd lost. I just want the tide to come in. Or to go out. ... Actually, I'd settle for just knowing that there's a difference.