Saved enough daylight?

Yippee, it's not 11.30, it's only 10.30. The bedroom clock tells lies, the computer - never. Now begins the season of leaving the office in the dark.

Noise is here too. He's ponky. Go shower, Noise.

Pencils is at a friend's house. Asshat was supposed to pick her up. Pencils just rang me; Asshat hasn't turned up, isn't answering his phone and Asshat's Deadbeat Girlfriend fobbed her off with a "He's sleeping in." (You now, I'm pretty sure she's a drag queen but due to the overpowering stench of Elizabeth Arden's chemical warfare Red Door - or something equally nasty - have not bothered to get close enough to confirm. Mind you, the combination of hot pink lipstick and leopard skin on a fat fifties-something is warning beacon enough as far as I'm concerned.) Asshat moved into the granny flat in her backyard this week, miles away (Yay.) They're not living in the same house because apparently Centrelink can get in the way of true love and pseudo-spirituality. Asshat was also supposed to pick Noise up last night, which is why I went at did it at 11 pm. (Seriously, if you live in Adelaide and have the misfortune to get stuck at a Caliente gig and don't die of boredom in the first five minutes, chuck a tomato at the fat slob playing guitar. Beware the leopard-skin clad gorgon though.....)

You know, I love this blog. I can say anything I want to here and noone can say a word about it. I mean, it's not like I'm talking about anyone who is reading it, right? Because that would be just weird and stalkerish. Only a true narcissist would come here looking to find something written about them.

Noise has hit the shower. Thank god. I was running out of breath and diplomacy.

After a huge week at work, I have tried to slob out and do not much this weekend. Not terribly successfully though, I managed a 10 minute nanna nap yesterday. Last night was dinner with a couple of friends at a local Italian. Grumpy has been in a snit for the past week so he went off to visit some friends in a seaside retirement village. (Well, it is very quiet there and full of old people. Nothing against old people. I like old people.) I hope he gets the pole out of his backside there, because it can't be comfortable for him. Something went awry in the final stages of the great kitchen renovation this week which was the final straw for him, I think. Best thing for him, a bit of sailing to clear the head. Me? Food and red wine and soft lighting always does the trick. Can't wait for Noise to get his license, because then he can come and pick me up and not the other way around. Sort of cut the evening short, but probably not such a bad thing in the end. Sometimes it's better to have a solid reason to say, "No more for me," as will power, a want to believe in all things in moderation and a clear head in the morning aren't always enough.

House is for sale. Sippy cup made it into the photographs. Whose sippy cup? Well, that's a matter of some debate here at Feminoz. So now we need to decide where to live next. Ideally a castle in Scotland, but I think we need to be practical.....

Well, I better haul my enormous ass up and out into the sunlight while we still have it and besides, Noise has marched in here singing Rule Britannia. Reason enough, I say. (I think he's looking for the sippy cup.) I've been watching Simon Schama's History of Britain. All 6 dvds. I think it's having some effect.

My new exercise shoes are sniggering at me from the corner. They've been there all week.

Have a lovely Sunday, possums.