...in the words of Dr Tennant, this week has really become 'The End of Time'. I spend all year longing for 'down' time, 'quiet' time, time at home, time to think. I've now had over a week of such luxury and it's time to get going again.
I'm having a great time but I've lost complete track of what day it is, what time it is, where I'm supposed to be. I'm horizontal. I am not sure I will be able to last a morning at work, never mind a whole day.
I don't want to drink any more wine, port, sherry, ginger wine. I certainly don't want to hear any Christmas music although that seems to have waned, thank goodness. I have an entire home-made Christmas cake in the cupboard under several biscuit selection boxes. I fear for my waistline (yes, more than usual).
We went to a party last night. I think I was over-dressed. My inertia has extended to a neglect of my ironing pile. I had to wear a frock because I had nothing else clean/ironed/wearable. I did feel a little uncomfortable though as everyone else was in jeans. It was a lovely party though. The kids managed to keep themselves occupied and the adults caught up on who had been where during the festivities. I did need a sit down though when we got home. I wore high heels, too - another sartorial error.