Its the weekend before the Old Folks arrive. Cleaning is high on the agenda along with making beds, doing lists for lists ( which I will lose and have to rewrite ), walking dogs and generally nutty tuttying pre-Christmas.
There is an inch think of dust on everything and I really can't be arsed to get rid. It's nearly lunch time on a Sunday morning and yet again I am still sat in my pj's. Pj's that are in fact underneath my sweats, a.k.a joggers and a jumper, as have swayed my bra-less way yet again to the local shops to get the Sunday papers. I think the guys in there have bets how on shitty I can look on a morning yet have no shame and how low do my bazoomers swings. Do I give a Figgy Pud?! So I return so I can stain my teeth just a little bit more with the thickest darkest coffee ever whilst I munch on an unhealthy breakfast which I will dismiss because I ran yesterday. Ah yes the running. I like to run in daylight I like to run on dry surfaces. Ideally it should be glorious sunshine and my hair should bounce away in time to the beat. Instead I am cocooned innuit-stylee and do not feel the urge to put on any lycra let alone my trainers. Plus He-man pointed out that with my dodgy foot running on ice would do it no good - tahdah! Perfect excuse. Hence I have not been running for 2 weeks. So can someone tell me why I went for a 4 mile run yesterday and now have legs of lead. This is not helping in the domestic chores front and the need to be a bit more whizz bang today.
To add to my already mounting distraction I have return of the Sewing Machine to contend wtih. This is my Nemesis. There was a dress I was making, it broke, it got sent away the sewing machine fairies, it returned yesterday and all I wanted to do is finish the GOD DAMN DRESS! I then spent a good couple of hours unpicking all the good work I did earlier because apparently I don't know how to read patterns and followed the wrong one. But I will not be beaten. I will finish the God Damn Dress which I will probably never wear again as it will sneer at me from my wardrobe. However until I complete the Dress in 1 hour ( this is a bit similar to Jamie Oliver's meals in 3O min - a lie) I cannot muster the enthusiasm, or leg power, to do anything else. So sorry Dad but you will have to make your own bed and draw your name is dust like the rest of us.