Day 13 and counting

Had to drag myself to work, latte fuelled.

My friend had survived her night in the  monkey den, the strange place where the teenage boys usually live and stay in quarantine. This is because they suffer from a strange affliction called X box. It's a bit like X factor but more tricky to dust.
The blonde crime writer who had sought shelter from the storm slept well in a Hitchcock type of way... wind howling round the turret, the branches of the trees tapping on the windows, the howl of the poltergeist as it is forced to watch yet another episode  of Top Gear on Dave.
But she drove off in the early hours on her super sticky tyres, well nourished with... well bugger all as we still don't have a functioning kitchen. The  new back door is well impressive though so we stood about and admired that for a bit instead.
Worked hard all day, many patients telling me of their experiences in the Olympic velodrome, all positive. The highlight of it all was Chris Hoy taking his shirt off. I think this might be proof of too much female hormone in the food chain...
Have been treating myself to all Henning Mankell's audio books in the right order to cheer myself up after the Marianas Trench of depression I suffered when I accidently read the last one on holiday. Only a Swede could finish a book like that. I should have seen it coming, the clues were there but I didn't. Always get the urge to call the Pit Bull Jussi after listening to Mankell. I'm on the white lioness at the moment.
Due to  monkey activity ( watching war films, eating Cheeky monkey bars, feeding the pitbull pringles to the point of bursting) in all other habitable areas of the house I retreated to the turret with French and Saunders, the last series. Jennifer doing Cher 'This is a collection of Songs  and wigs', Dawn doing Catherine Zeta Jones Spartacus Douglas 'I've got shit loads of cash me!' and tried to edit my book.
Too busy laughing.
Early to bed after excitement of the week,
A curry. A latte in Lidl carpark?
It's all too much.

Caro