Métro Boulot Dodo

I read till about 4am.  This is not to be recommended before one's first day at work - thankfully I wasn't starting until the afternoon.  I am now officially working, which does make me pretty real, I believe.  Sitting on the floor with one of my gorgeous children putting wooden rings on a wooden stick, it struck me that my brain could atrophy very quickly.  But work is work and having a very small child giggling into your cheek isn't bad for a Monday.

Then, a shortish walk in the rain to the osteopath, a bluff, charming Englishman who barked "Yeah, yeah" before I got to the end of answering any question.  He showed me into a sort of cellar which had beautiful floor tiles and then gave me a good working over with Nivea.  I'm hoping this will sort out my injury.  Amusingly I came home to an email from Go Ape headed "Miss that Woodchip in your Pants Feeling?"‏  No.  Actually.

The only book left is Truman Capote's "In Cold Blood" and I'm really not sure I can stomach all that wanton bloodshed.  It may have to be Radio 4 instead on my computator.