I thought today, after twenty five odd years the children are no longer getting on my back, in my hair, under my feet and up my nose. So that's why I remember to worry about them. But also to wonder at how nice and friendly and clever they all are. How on earth did they do that?

I'm feeling twitchy.
My attempt to re-order my life by going to bed before it's practically time to get up again is not quite working.
I'm supposed to be playing in a concert on Sat week and I keep blogging instead of practicing.
I have to clean the house before everyone arrives and makes a mess of it at christmas.
Christmas is definately coming, I can read the signs. (car park always full, shops going all glittery, envelopes addressed to both of us arriving nearly every day, Turkeys).
I can't remember where I hid all the presents I got for Barney.
I don't seem to have caught up with the end of November accounts at work and where am I going to fit in the end of December?
The dog wants to go out.
There are suddenly a lot of not so happy blog posts around and after visiting Patroclus today I think I'm getting a touch of paranoia.
My stomach is uneasy..I think it's complaining about something I gave it to eat.

And dammit, it's 1 oclock...again.