Thursday, 9 February 2017

Head meet brick wall.

It's Thursday. (Well I can't speak for when you got around to reading this, I wrote it on a Thursday, if you're reading it on a Tuesday, that's your problem! Do try to keep up.)

More accurately to quote Arthur Dent created by the brilliant Douglas Adams in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy:

"This must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays."

Apply that sentiment to my entire week and it'll be about right.

I have started a few things and have been distracted and waylaid by even more. I will eternally cling to the fact that yesterday I did at least achieve cake. Cake was made and boxed up ready to go into my son's school for the bake sale tomorrow. I don't envisage any weird mutations occurring as a result of ingesting my culinary endeavours. I even listed the ingredients on the box I put the cake in because we live in this era:


£500 scales for my business broke and were deemed, by me, uneconomically viable to pay a massive call out charge to just look at them. I did that for free and determined that they were busted. Cheaper scales were investigated at length, shortlisted, ordered out of frustration, delivered and sent back when I realised that they didn't weigh in stones and pounds. (Really not useful for the majority of the people I see who do not work in kilos.) A second set of cheap scales were then ordered due for delivery tomorrow. Meanwhile my husband has fixed the £500 set of scales because he is a genius. Naively I really was expecting them to last more than 6 years.

I had high hopes for getting some writing done this week, but the scales event meant that I lost a chunk of time to the other business on my writing day. 

Highlight of my week so far alongside the achievement of cake is that the supermarket did not reject my online review of their appalling own brand mixed spice. Yay me!

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