Since my return from my ill advised shopping trip, which really made me feel very unwell, I have done nothing but sleep. Perhaps I have narcolepsy; perhaps I am just worn out by Christmas and this awful flu germ I have been battling with day after day. Oh how I hate being ill because it's so boring. The only interesting thing is my horrific cough and the strange rasping noise my chest makes as I exhale. I want to create things and take my dog for a long walk. I want to cook exciting things for New Year. I want to have fun with my children. I need some sea air but my flat is let to other people enjoying the sea air. I just need some energy.
My mother-in-law leaves today and, although I will miss her when she's gone, I am quite looking forward to it just being us again. The dog gets back his space on the sofa and all formality of meals will be instantly relaxed. She is very nice and I am lucky to have such a dear mother-in-law but she could win the Uriah Heap award for obsequiousness which becomes maddeningly irritating after a while. So I am quite looking forward to her taking her ever such humble arse back to Yorkshire.
To all of you who have done your September dot to dots on your calendars, have you coloured in your Junes? Next Year I think all months will be d.i.y. More fun.
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