- Toothache. They should just take them all out and give me wooden ones like George Washington. I'm still pretending it's not happening which is a fine long-term strategy with a proud Beddington history (my grandfather had 3 teeth at the end of his life, this seems plenty).
- The school holidays, chiz chiz. F spent much of the morning firing maths questions at me, simply for his own amusement. L is - unwillingly, of course - at a morning holiday gulag. "It looks like The Bridge Café in The Apprentice" he said this morning, then, gloomily, this evening "I still have nine more hours community service to go". They are both at a difficult age, holiday activity wise and I have no idea how we will all get through the endless summer holidays without feasting on each other's spinal fluid.
- Up since 6, which makes no sense since the clock change went the other way.
- Dozed off whilst lying on rug with dog and dropped phone heavily and painfully on my own face.
- My new mug is lost somewhere in the bowels of "ParcelForce Worldwide" due to "insufficient address".
- I only need to get through 3 more days and we head to the Dales.
- Ludicrous new professionals GBBO style show. I enjoyed this, despite terrifying pronunciation of the word "feuillantine" mainly due to snippy team recriminations and the outside possibility of sugarwork disaster. Obviously it is no Bake Off, nor indeed Qui Sera Le Prochain Grand Pâtissier, the French equivalent, which last year had someone fashioning an authentically rusted Le Creuset pot out of chocolate, then filling it with cakes and which features Christophe Adam, about whom I have Feelings. There is, however, this judge who is from Normandy and who is taking absolutely no shit from anyone and told one team they had to pull their next cakes "from your backsides" which sounds interesting but not delicious.
- Waking at 6 meant finally finishing the thing I have been dithering over for weeks and therefore having time to start a little lacklustre VAT.
- I think - though this may be premature - I can retire my parka for the spring. I managed to go out in a much lighter jacket today without succumbing to second degree hypothermia. If confirmed, this would be a good thing as my parka has been widely described as bringing shame on the family with its combination of biro marks, grime and escaping, broken lining.
- I really enjoyed reading this on a Hillary Clinton meet and greet.
- I caught the dog in my office snuggling a plush tortoise and he was thrilled to see me:
Then he got into a sulk and rested his head angrily on the storage heater for the remainder of the afternoon:
Hello, I am ridiculous
30% Constant catering
30% Easter/clock change jetlag. Why are we having our dinner so late? What day is it? Who am I? Why hasn't someone killed that chicken yet?
20% General aesthetic consternation
10% Colin induced spots