Just when you think it can't possibly get any worse...

..it does.

Just that.

I think someone took my very special specs, you know the ones; the pink tinged ones that were apparently glued to my face circa June 1973 (approx. the time I stopped screaming about the fact I had been born). Someone took them and has hidden them and I want them back, you bastards!

Miranda, bless her. I love her very much. She comes out with some corkers though. Yesterday, she looked at me, slightly miffed at the fact that I had just told her in no uncertain terms that I really didn't care about the fact that her tamagotchis might die if I didn't put them on pause (only because I don't know how to...I haven't been bothered to learn), and said 'When I'm a mummy, I won't spend all day on my computer. I will play with my children.'...

...

I was so utterly mortified that I literally spluttered...

I resolve to spend less time on my computer. When I feel a bit better.