Tuesday 5th December 2017

Sunday was an unregognisable blur, pushing my boundaries with a bottle of Cava Rosado from the Co-Op on the Saturday evening helped my tortured soul to have to listen to the toxicity of the banal judges on Strictly Come Dancing, the run of the mill performances and having to endure the cheesy off tone singing. My live heckling via the WhatsApp app with one of my less often seen BFF’s, was the high-lite, he understands. I’m such a bitch.

Ridiculous as it sounds, drinking when I shouldnt as, A) I’m not supposed to, period! and B) I couldn’t have cared less, any numbing of my brain was going to be most welcome. Goodness knows what my Slimming World advocate, Lisa, and my many supporters would say to that, perhaps best not add it to my food diary. Actually, if I had decided to complete one of those pesky “keeping an eye in the sky for the forbidden pie” weekly spreadsheets, I doubt extremely if all the extras I have consumed would have been remembered. I blame myself, but really I don’t care, not today, not yesterday, nor any part of last week.

Trying to balance a wobbly brain, two dogs, house makeover and abstain from any confrontation from my neighbour has been as hard just as a juggler taking centre stage in a fast filling pool of water without wetting any of his toes.

If I hadn’t already made definite plans for today and a decision to have brunch out I would surely bow out with a piss poor lame excuse, being awake still at 04:26 is not good.

I think il try to rest, put my trusty device down and pull the cord, the light goes off. Last words muttered “Hey Siri, please set alarm for 8am” of course, he has to have the last word ….. I hate that.