Eye-ache

Experiencing that delightful, sandy gritty feeling that you do when over-tired. Two hours sleep just ain't enough. Can't believe that I've spent the entire evening since coming home, not relaxing/resting/sleeping like any other normal person, but washing two days worth of dishes, cooking, sorting laundry, tidying and popping out to the corner shop to buy tomorrow's breakfast milk. Eddie, bless him, must have noticed that I was slightly frazzled with all this activity, and offered to take over the hoovering for me. Reassuring to know that he cares enough to help. Rosie, conversely, was incredibly arsey with me, just because I hadn't finished writing on Chloe's birthday card when she needed to head out the door to babysit for her, and I was stuck on the phone talking to Terry at the critical moment. Stormed off in a right strop.

Thought I might have been able to crack on with UK/US comparative market research, but Hilary's just rung up to say that she's round Chris and Lynne's. Haven't seen them properly for ages, so am stupidly going to go round now – in spite of total, and extreme, body fatigue – cos I'm mad like that. Bound to get ill, or lose the plot, if I carry on like this. Will maybe be able to recuperate over the weekend, as Terry's saying that he wants to take the kids up to his Mum and Dad's for the start of the half-term hols. Suits me, and will make study life, going into Falmouth virtually all next week, so much easier. Best shoot off and be sociable before it gets too late now.