I started the evening last night by pouring red wine into a pint glass, and thought "this will end in tears" and do you know what? It did. When will I learn. When will I learn. When will I learn. If you are someone prone to depression and you imbibe a depressant, what happens? Well I can tell you this, it isn't like when two werewolves have a baby and their genes cancel out the werewolvishness. Oh no. Full moon or not, I'm going to howl. I like a drink. But you know, there are times when it probably isn't a good idea. At my advanced age, crying at night makes you look offal in the morning.
The Boy has said his first recognisable words this week. Prior to this he made do with "ugh" which serves quite a few purposes. His first words were "Oh dear!". Those of you who know me in real life can breathe a sigh of relief. It could so easily have been "You useless pile of cunt!".
When I walk home down my road, I see the sun glinting off the dome of the Palais de Justice. That's something you wouldn't see in Southfields.