Sunday, 3 April 2011


Having a blue day. The boy is gone, up in the air on a plane to Boston.

I laid in bed and rolled in the smell of him and pretended that I didn't have to get up and DO STUFF.

Then I got up. And went back to bed. Comfortably wedged in a duvet sausage roll I considered the following points.

1. Would I be happy as door mouse? Door mice have got it covered.

2. How long does it take for bed sores to form?

3. What exciting activity will I tell people at work I was doing rather than admit I stayed in bed till 12 on a Sunday. (I'm thinking power walking, believable yet attainable.)

4. Where can I get a sausage roll?

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