Weekender

Reading time: 1 min
Friday night. Comic Relief. Laughing at the Prime Minister, not laughing at Gervais, bed at 10pm. Saturday. Rugby. Apologies to Ireland (but they did beat Pakistan at cricket). Bed by 10pm. Sunday. Mother’s Day. Made Mum cry (in a good way). Visited Gran. Bed by 10pm. Today. Can finally breath through nose. Just.

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Reverence

Reading time: 2 mins
I was going to write about sleep patterns as mine seem to have shifted, but someone’s done it already. I was going to write about the History of Mother’s Day, but someone’s done it already. So, instead I’ll write about the past couple of days. Saturday morning didn’t start too well. I woke with a thumping headache and thought I was in for another migraine but thankfully a couple of painkillers put paid to that. Not that we had much planned but I really didn’t want to spend the day lying in a darkened room, trying not to throw up. And no, it wasn’t alcohol related. Ohh and whilst I remember, I get a headache most Saturday mornings without fail, …

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Stop the bus

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Hang on! It’s March. MARCH!! How the chuff did that sneak up on me?? That means Mother’s Day, father-in-laws birthday and.. er.. some other ‘family’ things that Louise will remember. Anyway I have a complaint to make: I want an extra day. We had one last year, why can’t we have one this year as well? In fact why can’t we just add a day to the year EVERY year? What’s to stop us? WHO will stop us?? Well apart from the Catholic church of course, but let’s be honest here. What power do they have these days? The days of the Inquisition are long gone even if it would seem that a large portion of the aforementioned church are …

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Perchance to dream

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Friday night. Louise was at a friend’s house for a Sex and the City party (Cosmopolitans, shrieking woman, tears, hankies… you know the drill). Afterwards they went out and I got phoned at around 2 a.m. to go and pick her up*. We get home around 3 a.m. I get to sleep sometime after 3.42 a.m. Saturday. Up at 8.45 a.m. Things to do. Things to do. Saturday night. Louise’s cousin’s 40th. 100 people in 70s outfits. Cheap booze (8 vodkas, 2 gins, 1 white wine, 2 breezers + mixers = £21), halls shuts at midnight so we adjourn to the private bar downstairs. Leave there at 2 a.m. and head back to the birthday boy’s house. Get back to …

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AARGH

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Don’t you just hate that feeling of dread that develops in the pit of your stomach. You know the one, where you read something and think… “Oh no, I’ve forgotten!”. Thankfully it wasn’t Mother’s Day in the UK just in the States. Just as well as we had my parents for dinner last nght, now THAT would have been embarassing.

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LullLoads in my head but no energy available. Project naming conventions (or lack of them), learning about photography and compiling a list of top photologs (suggestions welcomed/needed!), thinking about getting to the gym, getting 8 Mile on DVD, REALLY needing to do some tidying up tonight, Equilibrium at the cinema first, Mother’s Day, night out on Friday (although I’m double booked), Cadbury’s Finger of Fudge in the vending machine, loads of work that I should be doing, money worries (despite just ordering a digital camera), trip to London (hence the money worries), friend in hospital in two weeks, how long before the pears I bought ripen?, work at home on Friday?

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