It's been an interesting week really. I have been cutting back on my ludicrously high doses of caffeine with hideous results - a headache like the black plague ascended from Hades via Bolivia and gave me several rounds in the ring before I was knocked out and had to take some paracetamol. I read a book that enlightened me about what was in my food and drink which was motivational on one level, and downright scary on another. Suffice to say, I am trying to be more mindful as to what I put in my body, rather than making merry with it in the victual and grog department - so I feel less groggy and more sleek moggy? Agog? Just less groggy. Although until the nippers start sleeping through the night that may be lottery thinking.
Perhaps I am having some kind of mid-life crisis, assuming I live to be 92, but I have shelved my third novel and been writing songs instead. No I have not been having fantasies of rocking out on stage to whistles and applause, as I did for a time in the grunge and various other things, fuelled 90's. The most my imaginings stretch to at the moment are strumming in the lounge while the kids mosh around on the floor hurling the odd fishfinger. However! Writing songs is fun. They are alternative gospel, protest songs if you must know. I know I'm in a genre all of my own.
Oh, and I listened to Obama's prayer breakfast speech, which left me speechless - but not as speechless as him in places. Did you clock those lengthly pauses coupled with an ever so patronising head tilt, designed to tilt you down his road of 'many roads lead to Rome' wisdom? Those pauses were so long you could have recited the American national anthem whilst knitting a complicated jumper. More on the actual post-pausal content another time.
Anyway, I'm off to eat dinner and watch Buzz and Tell - have you watched it. Bleeding hilarious. Better than Gigglebiz even. And after a day that featured gnashing teeth, being kicked in the face by a flailing toddler, bawling and near hysteria, you can't say better than that.