My lovely son has only left me twenty minutes of charge on the laptop, so I'll be brief (no, I can't go upstairs and get the lead, because that would mean missing crucial moments of 'Will & Kate: the first year' on ITV. Sorry, yes I am a shallow old Royalist - best not to dwell on the permanent marker moustache on the Queen's portrait incident at university - after all, the Queen is effectively Hubby's boss).
I was really happy to get back into university today for a meeting with my tutor. I'm clinging onto my second-chance student hood; I'll be quite sad to leave it all behind and get back to reality. Even though the taught part of the course is over, I still have loads of work to do, and I don't officially graduate until November, I think, so I can carry on in student mode until then (eating Beanfeast out of a mug with a teaspoon because nobody can be bothered to do the washing up, mainly).
 I'm very much looking forward to my second-chance graduation, I have to say, as I did make a bit of a hash of it first time round. It was my friend H's twenty-first birthday the day before, and we went out for cocktails with her and all her scary hockey club friends. I don't remember much of the night, but I do remember vomming just before having my graduation portrait taken, and my mum muttering darkly that I should really have worked a bit harder and got a 2:1.
You know how most parents proudly display their children's graduation portraits somewhere prominent, like the hall table or the mantlepiece? That never happened to me - I found them a few years later in a box under the bed in the spare room. I can't say I blame them for not putting me on display; I do look a bit green around the gills.
So this time, the plan is to do better than a 2:2 and definitely not vomit.
Ah, look at the lovely royal couple...sorry, I have to go and watch more Hello-style telly now. Take care xx