Watched "Dalziel and Pascoe" last night, - the one about the occult murders, scary, well done as usual. I have to watch "My family" afterwards to bring perspective back before I go to bed. The BBC crime shows are getting cleverer and cleverer. I seriously hate going out on friday night and missing them. And, no, I haven't ever worked out how to use the video record timer and I wouldn't get the time to watch what I recorded. Yeah, well I'd rather lie around with a good book when I'm allowed time off to veg.
Have started reading "We need to talk about Kevin" by Lionel Shriver. 'Harrowing' fits well. Well written, but long and wordy, leaving you depressed and grateful that (so far) none of my children have ever committed murder. I'll discuss further as I get more read.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
I am new to this, so bear with me, ie. have patience. Does anyone read this stuff anyway?
Last night I seriously blasted 23 year old son who lives here with his pregnant girlfriend - lovely girl, not a penny to her name, but plenty of debt, neither working consistently, but managing to feed themselves - mostly, anyway. Came home from an exhausting day at uni then fitball to no dinner even started, 7.30 last night, get the drift, bin not put out, washing I left strategically by back door to hopefully find its way to the line, still there in its basket. Am I not obliged to go off my face? And then whose fault is it that I wake at 4am with a savage migraine requiring major medication? I know, mine.
Came home from work today to find male lodger in house has put frozen leg of lamb in oven instead of leg of lamb desperately needing cooking which is still in fridge, in plain view. Too late, and we're still waiting for dinner at 8.50! Hark, I hear it's done.
Last night I seriously blasted 23 year old son who lives here with his pregnant girlfriend - lovely girl, not a penny to her name, but plenty of debt, neither working consistently, but managing to feed themselves - mostly, anyway. Came home from an exhausting day at uni then fitball to no dinner even started, 7.30 last night, get the drift, bin not put out, washing I left strategically by back door to hopefully find its way to the line, still there in its basket. Am I not obliged to go off my face? And then whose fault is it that I wake at 4am with a savage migraine requiring major medication? I know, mine.
Came home from work today to find male lodger in house has put frozen leg of lamb in oven instead of leg of lamb desperately needing cooking which is still in fridge, in plain view. Too late, and we're still waiting for dinner at 8.50! Hark, I hear it's done.
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