Thursday is the new Wednesday

So after last weeks' "claiming of Wednesday", circumstances took against me, and I had today off, spent driving through wet fog on the M62, surrounded by white vans and silver cars, none of whom felt a need to turn on headlights.........aaarghhh.... Consequently I am nursing a filthy headache - worse even than the red wine headache of Tuesday evening. (All sympathy will be gratefully received)

Girlchild has just disappeared off to practice being a wage slave (cashout at Sainsburys) and she, too, is woebegone and hypochondriacal (there is a possibility this is genetic). Today's worries include
"being sooooooo tired", "yes, well, you're seventeen, it goes with the territory"
and her
"wrist hurts", "probably RSI from all your texting".
I was treated to a basilisk stare and a "humph" as she left the room.

I suspect I have blown my chances of goodies from the discounted cake trolley.


I was going to go to see "Valkyrie" this evening, inspite of Tom and because of Eddie, but my bum feels so happy to be back on its sofa I have decided tonight will be "Hellboy II" night courtesy the lovely box on the top of the television - God, I love this technology thing, although it can make me slightly paranoid. You select a film, it tells you how much, you hit the button that says "yea, fine, whatever" and then it asks you if you are sure you want to watch it. Even the Digibox questions my taste in entertainment ?!

Oh, and today's dog exploit - he returned to the ever popular "I shall get all of the newspapers you didn't read because you went to sleep underneath them pile, and shred them to make a pleasing papier mache opportunity" and he wasn't even alone and doing it from boredom. Next time I shall get a dog that can read......much simpler, he can entertain himself.