Well, after my earnest intentions to spend the weekend working on HH&S, I ended doing far less than I'd expected to. On Thursday, my head started pounding and my back hurt, it was worse by Friday and by Saturday, I felt like a cross between someone having gone several rounds with that Hatton chappy who was fighting the other night, and enduring a humdinger of a hangover. I did do some work on it, but not nearly enough, and even ended up sitting in front of the fire on Saturday, watching Henry V with Kenneth Branagh, and taking intermittent looks at Della Galton's wonderfully helpful book.
I felt fine on Monday morning - to typical of my timing - but the first two days of this week have been hellish. T, one of our hard-working filing team - said today, "It's watching you lot, that convinces me that I'd never want to do your job." She asked me how I was, and when I muttered, "I really hate my job." T replied: "That's what I love about you, Debs, your consistency." I obviously moan more than I'd realized.
Anyway, after a sleepless night (pretty much) last night, and waking up in a state, I've managed to sort out and courier out the documents that were stressing me out, and tonight, despite having to go to (yet another parent's evening), I'm in a jolly mood. Coming home to one of R's delicious chicken curry's has helped too.