Today is one of those glorious November Sunday’s where the light’s perfect and air is cold enough to snatch breath from your lungs, and where I’m currently walking around dressed for July on the top half of my body. The Menopause, everybody, which decides that on the coldest day of the year so far the top half of your body will boil and your feet will freeze, meaning I’ve stolen a pair of my son’s ski socks to stop toes from becoming ice-blocks.
Apart from this, bodily health’s pretty smashing: filling breakfast, my third bucket of tea, a decent night’s kip. I’ve got a ton of stuff to do for the well-being of family, but then day is mine to do with as I choose, which will mean some running and probably a lot of writing. I’ve sated my gaming desires for a few days too, with a whole night of playing around and fucking about online. There was also an interesting conversation with my husband over how he may go forward doing the same.
So, if you’ll excuse me, it is time to get started.