Saturday, 29 September 2007

In Lazy News...IN YOUR FACE!

Sorry about that. What I meant to say was, "Thanks awfully chaps for your votes. I'm honoured and humbled to win one of Diesel's caption contests."

Now back to sleep...

Thursday, 13 September 2007

Help Me, Doctor Freud!

It would appear, Doctor, I’m doomed to nine months of dreams which, while not nightmarish, are also not particularly pleasant. What perplexes me is, I can’t seem to discern any meaning in them, no relevance to my real life. In my latest dream, for example, which left me feeling decidedly angry and frustrated, I happened to be doing things that would never happen in real life, and I was hoping you could help me discover what it all means.

For one thing, I was holidaying at a fancy tropical resort, when in reality I’m working full time while gestating my third child under four. Secondly, I looked fabulous in a bikini although I’ve never been able to do justice to one in real life. Lastly, I was repeatedly slapping my mother-in-law. What can it possibly signify?

Oh…I’m sorry Sigmund, my mistake. It seems your psychoanalytical services are not required after all.

Saturday, 8 September 2007

Meanwhile, in the Real World…

Smugly thinking to myself that at least there are some benefits to contracting yet another debilitating virus, which for the past week has left me incapable of much more than sleeping or lying catatonic on the couch, I blithely changed my baby’s horribly messy nappy with the confidence of the nasally-obstructed. I scraped the contents into the toilet, preparing to crow to my husband how relatively un-unpleasant the experience was compared to his latest nappy-related fiasco. And then I realised my finger was smothered in pooh.

Illness-blunted senses: a double-edged sword.

[Please forgive any errors or incoherence; I’m still non compos mentis. One day I’ll tell you why I dislike that phrase so much.]