I did have grand plans to start going to the gym three times a week, but the chef at New Orleans cafe has put paid to that. Still, even though I haven't improved my fitness, I'm quite sure I haven't put on any weight, so you know, silver lining and all that.
I can't honestly think about what else I've done this week or weekend. Although I'm sure it's lots. Book is going dispiritingly slowly. I'm worried that my main characters are all a bit lacklustre, and the plot is shuffling rather than racing, but maybe that's just a reflection on how I've been feeling. I have to say I'm rather annoyed with my heroine, who does seem to be turning into a bit of a victim, which is not good at all. Still, I'm sure I can find some inner cynicism to spice her up somehow.
This weekend I have done very little except moan, clutch my stomach and look pathetic. Which means Hubby has had to do a lot more of the washing up/childcare stuff than usual. He has done a very good job, but it has used up every scrap of his patience, so he has run off (literally) to the gym to escape domesticity and feel like a man again. So I'll be putting the kids to bed in a minute. Because I'm a bad mother, I have therefore opted for the watch-extra-DVD-and-go-straight-to-bed-without-a-story option.
It's getting colder every day out here, and hurrah for that. I'm off to the cashmere shop tomorrow and not even a dodgy egg hollandaise will stop me.
Exciting week ahead what with school play (I have two polar bear cubs and a narrator to cheer for), wives xmas function and a James Bond night in the mess. Sunil the tailor has promised to have my stuff ready on Tuesday, but even as he spoke, alien tentacles were grasping at his ankles and a shaft of blue light was strobing down from the mother ship. So we'll see...
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