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I had plans to get the house tidy. Feral children had left it looking like some feral children had been in here and I am also keen to start sorting out my stuff and getting rid of anything that I don't require. If we do move house (far from certain) then I don't want to bring a load of crap that I brought with me from Shepherd's Bush that I will never use again.
But a) I was tired and b) my laptop arrived back after it's ridiculously expensive repair (five keys working intermittently set me back £750 - well done Ian Apple, enjoy your thousandth ivory back-scratcher). Luckily everything was still on there so I didn't waste any time reloading from the back up, but I had to sort out receipts for the tax man and clear up my inbox and a few other jobs and soon enough it was nearly time for the kids to come home from school. Some kind of time monster had taken a massive chomp out of my day and I don't know where it went with it. That's my day, mate. Stop eating it. I need it.
A lot of readers (Jon Burton who I think might be 100% of the readership) have asked when part 2 of the leaf clearing up is happening. As if I am not going to be doing that in the few seconds from spotting the lorry that does the garden stuff and it arriving at my gate. So just wait til next Tuesday for more on that story.
Weirdly once the kids were in bed - I'd almost fallen asleep on Phoebe's bed as she read to me tonight- I got a burst of energy and started sorting out my bedside and bathroom cabinets. I don't quite know how but I have ended up with about five beard trimmers, most of which have just been stuck in the draw, with all their attachments as soon as they got replaced. I do know how - it's because most of them are no fucking good and I keep hoping I've found a great one and then realise I haven't and then hope rules over experience as I see another one a few months later. But I decided to get rid of all but the most recent one and get my other bathroom stuff better organised (I have a lot of face scrub and face wash stuff that I absolutely never use, but keep buying like I do) and found I had a lot of space in my bathroom draw once I'd purged. There was also some kind of balloon toy that Phoebe had made at some point, that was full of talc (or possibly cocaine) that had been stuck in the drawer and then perished a bit, leaving me with a mountain of white powder to clear up/stick up my nose. It was turning into a bigger job than I should have been attempting at 8.30pm, but I got it into some semblance of order and managed to watch a bit of TV with Catie, before collapsing. The Edinburgh trip had wiped out three days from my life and bizarrely I think the travel home day was more debilitating than the performance day, even though I mainly spent it doing nothing.
This isn't the showbiz life I envisioned. And the floor is still splattered with lego and fruitshoot bottles.
