I'm eating my way through a packet of clotted cream fudge so calorific you could practically run a car off it, trying to beat the "Oh gods, can I cope?" feeling. Thank God It's Friday.
It's been an odd week. The weather has turned autumnal, the visitor numbers at Kew have plunged, the enquiries are getting odder again as if in preparation for winter, a helicopter is circling over Kew Green endlessly (represses urge to yell "F**k off!" out of window) and my period is late. VERY late.
I can't be pregnant. If I were pregnant, the child would have started school by now, if you see what I mean. But this means I have a f**king helicopter going round and round over my head and I am pre-menstrual as bejayzuz and I have to find civil and courteous ways to write back to the people making odd requests and enquiries. >sigh<
As I said, TGIF. With knobs on.
1. What I want to do this weekend:
Go to a party and have a great evening chatting to interesting people, drinking nice wine and eating too much.
Go to the Wetland Centre and see lovely migratory birds, and sketch and paint.
Do lots of writing.
Bake homemade bread rolls and a chocolate cake.
2. What I probably will do this weekend:
Do grocery shopping.
Do my income tax return.
Tidy up the garden.
But I intend to cram at least one of list 1 into list 2, even if it takes me all weekend to do it. Take care out there!