The end of the children's exams cannot come soon enough. There were ugly scenes tonight regarding the human circulatory system. The word "aorta" can never be uttered in our household again, I fear.
Spent much of the morning trying to deal with the washing machine's latest fit of temper, knee deep in a tepid bog, marvelling at the sheer quantity of water it can contain, like an extremely dull Lady Macbeth.
Over-enthusiastic baby dog in park jumped up spreading mud all over my only decent coat (lovely Maje parka). Yes, don't wear a nice coat to the park, I know, I know. Shut up. My head was turned by the prospect of not looking like a despondent flasher for once.
Continued multiple administrative failures.
Had to turn down a visit to a chocolate maker's workshop.
Weirdly intense anxiety about what should be really quite a manageable task.
Prey to the sin of envy to a significant degree.
Hips have seized up after ill-advised dancing to 1980s ska classics in heels at a wedding this weekend. Can no longer bend down without guttural, rasping, resentful groan, in the manner of the camels of Petra.
Some child has hijacked my phone so that it no longer gives me any useful information or connects to email, but only sends me cryptic messages like "your village was ransacked by Sakri!". I have shouted.
Delicious free lunch and reviewing a nice hotel tonight (clean sheets, plump pillows, tiny shower gels, one of those tiny Polly Pocket kettles with eccentrically flavoured teabags and, unlike my own gracious home, a functioning bath).
F said nice things about the ghastly book proposal. I don't believe her, obviously, but it's better than an awkward silence because she couldn't think of anything at all to say.
Attended jolly event with champagne and tiny snacks and people to stare at tonight at which, unlike last Thursday's jolly event with champagne and tiny snacks, I was NOT the one who dropped 7 canapés on an elegant man's foot.
May be slightly drunk, but this has significantly attenuated my anxiety about the manageable task (oh god, tomorrow is going to be dreadful, isn't it).
Is this a (i) date (ii) interview (iii) the start of an ugly fist fight or (iv) other (please state in full)?