“So, I’m having trouble getting to sleep at the moment,” Seb says when he calls last night. “I’ve just got so much work to do and I fall asleep but I wake up every hour and…”
“Maybe it would be a good idea to get back to boxing and the gym?” I say. “That will tire you out and help you sleep.”
“You’re probably right,” Seb says. “But I’ve got to learn all these new computer programs to write the graphs and do the equations and…”
“Well, look, my darling,” I say. “Once you’ve mastered the programs, it won’t all take so long. It’s just taking up a lot of time now, at the beginning.” Am not sure if this is even right, but it sounds sensible.
“And I overslept this morning,” Seb says, sounding sad. “So then I missed the lecture on Time Management, and I could do with some help on that and…”
“Maybe you could get the notes from someone?” I say, fighting the urge to laugh that his bad time-keeping has caused him to miss the Time Management lecture. My poor darling.
“Thank you for the snow leopard photo,” he says. “That’s lovely.”
Sent him an article in Mum’s Snow Leopard Adoption Update with a fantastic close-up taken by a Tibetan monk who was walking near his monastery when a snow leopard just appeared in front of him.
“Am glad you liked it,” I say. “Did you get the photos of me?”
“From one rare and beautiful wild creature to another one,” Seb says. “It’s nice to see your face, my lovely.”
“I know what,” I say. “Why don’t you do an hour more work now, and I’ll read my book for an hour, and then we can both watch London Spy at nine o’clock and discuss it tomorrow?”
“Sounds good, my lovely,” Seb says. “How’s Churchill?”
Have just started reading The Second World War by Winston Churchill.
“Well I’m a hundred and fifty pages in and we’re still only up to 1935,” I say. “The Germans have just achieved air parity. Need to get on with it.” There are another five volumes to go after this one.
During London Spy – the new thriller starring Ben Whishaw – manage to paint my nails. They are now orange with a blue glitter top coat, so that’s an improvement on the chipped base coat that I’ve been sporting for weeks.
The attached photo is the young fluffy monster. Hope to take some new photos soon, but at the moment it’s grey and raining out there.
Happy Tuesday everyone!
*1962. By Charles Dyer. Murder mystery play.
Scars, Tears and Training Bras 