Status Report

All work and no play have made Amber a dull, dull blogger this week, folks, but of course, you knew that. In lieu of an actual entry, then, here are some updates on those burning issues I know you’ve all been thinking about obsessively this week:

The Daggers in Terry’s Throat:
Have now almost gone, and are probably more like those plastic knives you get in fast food restaurants than ACTUAL daggers, that you could use to kill a man.  Terry is still officially Under the Weather, though, and has been for the past two weeks. Everyone say “awwww!”  This has actually been quite the experience, because, small matter of compete kidney failure aside, Terry doesn’t really get ill. “Now you know how I felt all December,” is what I have said to him, more times than was really necessary.  Poor Terry.

My Second Head:
Is still in its “Buddha” phase (bright red dot, exact centre of forehead. GOD.). Aaaargh! Enough with the red dot already! Why? Why must I suffer like this?

The red weals:
Miraculously gone. For the time being. Until they read this entry, obviously, and realise that I’ve just effectively invited them back by daring to suggest that my under-eye area no longer makes me look like I’ve just been exhumed.

The locks on my car door:
Refused to open again on Wednesday, but DID agree to open for me today. Maybe the LOCKS NOT FREEZE! is working? Or maybe it’s getting warmer. Please, God, let it be getting warmer. (Note: it is not getting warmer. I know because when I walked the dog today I had to wear so many clothes that when I tried to put my boots on, I realised I couldn’t actually bend over.)

February:
Still kicking my ass, still the worst month of the year. 

The gym:
Once more on speaking terms with me, because after a poor start to the week, I have attended classes on Wednesday, Thursday AND Friday. I can no longer walk properly because of this.

The Novel:
Now 7.2% complete, as opposed to just 7% complete, or whatever it was before. At this rate, I will be finished by Christmas. Christmas 2020, I mean.

Aaaand, that’s it. Unless there’s anything I’ve missed that you can’t live without knowing, of course, in which case,  free to ask.  And now: wine.