Have one of those headaches where you feel like your eyes are being pulled out of your skull one way and your brain is being pulled out of your skull the other way, urgh, it's so disgusting, just feel sick. Predictably the painkillers are on the kitchen table, 220 miles away from home, someone in this office might offer me one when the blood starts dripping out of my ears.
I am going to talk more about Paris at some point, I am working on a tres witty and entertaining report but it's not quite ready for your delectation just yet.
But have to tell you about Team Kitchen, who spent Saturday working their little and large arses off and have finished all the big jobs that have been plaguing me since, ooh, about June. Will post some photographs so you can have visual evidence of what has been boring you to death asap. In the meantime rest assured that other than a post moaning about the painting jobs and general finishing off that I have to do, the kitchen saga is no more! It even has a door hung proudly (nudge nudge) between the kitchen and living room now so I can have, shock! Two separate spaces...! My God, the luxury...
AND I have a blind in the living room, so my front room window no longer provides a cinema screen view into my life for all the neighbours, passing cars, double decker buses, health visitors, postmen, loitering teenagers, old people, dog walkers, that previously looked into my house daily, everyone wave now!
Next stop... The Bathroom....
And the pre-Christmas diet started on Monday, so far I have only had the urge to violate it once and that involved a cup of lentil soup that I resisted so doing quite well so far... My mantra, which I heard on the radio at some point, is 'If it swims, it thins!' which means my diet at the moment consists of salad and tuna sandwiches on wholemeal bread for lunch and steamed vegetables and fish for dinner, at some point I will rip the leg off a still sqwarking chicken I am sure but thus far (and we're on day three remember) I am ok.
Glenn has attempted to make the diet more interesting (not that I'm making him conform to it, he eats the same as he always has) by arguing that as the mantra sort of rhymes, I should be able to eat other food that fits it, like 'if it's in tins, it thins' and 'if it has limbs, it thins', but I will not be fooled! I am following the my mother school of weight loss, which means I should weigh absolutely nothing by Christmas, if this doesn't work then there's nothing for it but to break out the crack. You got to love that crack.
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