Catching up with the week..

I feel as though it's Monday. This means I'll be buggered tomorrow, when it's Thursday Bin day. Unless I stick a post-it note in a prominent place, preferably on Dearest's hooter, it will be a jump-out-of-bed with a war-cry tomorrow morning. Long weekends do this to you. Put you out of sync for the rest of the week. I have just waived off the family and the granddog who've been in residence since Sunday. What you can hear is the grinding of sinews, as I reclaim what I call, routine.
Oh Lord, and it's weigh-in day tomorrow.. Fat chance I will have of losing weight this week. Too many temptations have finally unleashed the dormant gannet. My Dearest husband buys all the things I won't let him buy for us, for our grandchildren. Chocolates, biscuits, hot crossed buns. Oh yes, and MacDonalds : special delivery. Everywhere I turn there is a calorific confection waiting to ensnare me.
Dear reader, it has been enough to turn me to drink. Sadly, drink won't make me shrink.