I'm feeling smug: the washing up is done; the washing is done; the bin is out; there's a huge batch of homemade putanesca sauce in the freezer; the upstairs bathroom is clean (ish - I mean I didn't mop the floor or do the mould-squirter, and no I haven't done the downstairs bathroom, will you please stop going on about it?); I've written another chapter for the book; I've done my lesson plan for monday's class; I've downloaded a meditation app for my phone; my legs are shaved and my toenails are painted. And it's only nine thirty! I know, I must have forgotten something. Surely I cannot be this organised on a Thursday night? Perhaps I have turned a corner. Perhaps being forty three has made me remarkably better at time management and household admin? It's all a bit scary...I think I shall have to go upstairs and count my children to make sure they're all here (the absence of one of the three children would surely help explain the fact that I'm ready for bed a full hour earlier than usual)...